Inside the Darkness
by Silver-Eyed-Elf
Summary: Amber Larks, a reporter for the New York Observer, is promised a promotion if she can prove that Dr. Jonathan Crane really did have something to do with the terror that struck Gotham City a few months ago. A postBatman Begins fanfic.
1. Prelude to Disaster

Amber Larks was sitting inside a café that morning, sipping her usual coffee, and reading the newspaper. She didn't notice the man who was watching her so carefully. After she was finished with her coffee, she folded the paper carefully, and walked out into the New York sidewalk.

She looked up at the well dressed man of about 25, and ignored him as he turned away slightly so she couldn't see his face. She passed by him, her long scarf billowing out behind her in the chilly New York autumn wind and waited at the nearest intersection for traffic to pass.

The man walked up behind her silently but quickly, and scanned the oncoming traffic with his icy blue eyes carefully. He looked at the woman, and glanced at the sidewalks to make sure that there would be no one there to see him. The drivers would be distracted by the early morning rush to get to work on time.

His cell phone rang suddenly, and the woman started to turn around in surprise. He pushed her into the oncoming traffic with a quick and surprisingly strong shove. Screaming, the woman was thrown into the path of a taxi, and he looked horrified and shocked as she lunged back toward the curb. The taxi had barely missing her. The car came to a screeching halt. He walked quickly towards her under the guise of helping her, face a perfect mask of concern.

"What the hell was she doing? Did she jump out on to the street!" The driver half yelled as the man injected her quickly with a syringe that he had hidden in his blazer's sleeve. The woman was looking around, obviously dazed by her near-death experience. She gasped at the prick of the needle, and then passed out when the drug entered her bloodstream.

"Yes, it would appear to be that way. Most likely a suicidal." He replied, trying to force some distress into his voice.

"Then why would she try and crawl back?"

"Often people have second thoughts about dying when they are about to commit suicide." He replied calmly.

"Oh yeah? And who are you?" The cab driver asked suspiciously as he was getting out a cell phone.

"Jonathan Crane, I'm the Administrator of Riverside Asylum." The driver looked at him with a mixture of fear and disgust.

"That hellhole on 29th? Damn…" Jonathan narrowed his eyes at the driver's comment.

"Don't you have an _accident_ to report" he said coldly. The driver looked slightly panicked at his tone, and dialed a number on his cell phone. Soon, an ambulance was screeching down the road. Jonathan turned away as they lifted the woman easily onto the ambulance, as he didn't wish for them to see his face. After it had left, he walked over to an expensive looking car, and got in. He called one of his contacts in the police department, and located which hospital the ambulance they would be taking the woman to. He parked near the back of the parking lot, and walked into the hospital.

"If you want to see a doctor, you'll need to fill this out first." A bored sounding woman said to him, handing him a large sheaf of papers without looking up from her magazine. He looked at the papers and narrowed his eyes slightly behind his glasses. The woman looked up after a moment and frowned at him. "What do you want?"

"I do not require medical attention. I must speak to your supervisor about a woman who was recently admitted here." The nurse looked at him with growing suspicion.

"Sir, first I'm going to need the name of the woman who you're talking about."

"Amber Larks." He replied. The man was losing his patience with the nurse, but he didn't let it show as she consulted her computer carefully. He knew that getting her out of the hospital would be one of the most difficult parts of his plan.

"Yes, we checked her in just a few minutes ago. Are you a relation?" The nurse asked him.

"I really must speak to your supervisor on this issue; I'm afraid it's a rather, _delicate_, matter." He said quietly. The nurse frowned at him, but hesitantly picked up her phone. He walked back to a chair in the waiting area and sat down in the semi-comfortable chair. He was pleased to see that the chairs, and waiting area in general, were much nicer at his asylum. He was still finding the faults in the room when a tall man walked into the waiting room, wearing a white doctor's jacket.

"Dr. Jonathan Crane! What a surprise to find you here. Please, let's talk on the way to my office." The doctor said warmly while opening the large doors again. Jonathan followed without expression. "So, what brings you here today?"

"Well, I was rather disturbed this morning when I saw a woman jump in front of a taxi with no other motive other than to end her life." Jonathan walked into a neatly furnished office, and sat down in a chair opposite a large oak desk.

"Suicide? That's original, using New York traffic to die. First time for everything I suppose…" The doctor said darkly as he sat down behind his desk.

"Yes, rather unfortunate. I would like to have her moved into my asylum, only for a few days of course, to observe her mental health, and provide therapy." Jonathan replied coolly. The doctor frowned at him.

"That usually isn't the way things work in this hospital. And who's to pay for this treatment? From what I understand, Riverside Asylum isn't cheap."

"Oh, that will not be an issue, Dr. Marcott; I truly feel badly about not being able to stop the poor woman before she jumped, so I will pay for her treatment." Jonathan replied calmly. He was slightly worried that the doctor wouldn't believe his story, as it certainly wasn't one of his most believable. He was very pleased to see Dr. Marcott smile warmly.

"Well, in that case, I suppose we could make _one_ exception; assuming that Ms. Larks would be in the best asylum in New York…" The doctor said, still smiling. "But you really shouldn't blame yourself for what happened; you couldn't have possibly prevented it."

"Yes, I suppose…" He smiled inwardly at the Dr. Marcott's last comment. Oh, how naive some people are. But then again, the good doctor had no reason to suspect that the woman had not dived in front of that cab of her own will. Jonathan smiled kindly at the doctor. "I shall have a van dispatched to transport her to my facility. Will that be acceptable?"

"Of course. I'm sure that you remember the way out?" Dr. Marcott asked him.

"Certainly, Doctor." Jonathan replied. He walked out of the doctor's office quickly, and out the doors. He drove his car back to his Victorian style manor on Long Island. As he stepped out of the car, he looked up at the large windows and the brick walls of the home. It was really all that was left of his parents now that his father's asylum in Gotham had been shut down and the manor near it demolished a month ago. Jonathan sighed and walked quickly into the house.


	2. Inside Riverside Asylum

Annabel Lindor hadn't had a very good day. When she woke up, she found that Jon had taken her favorite car to work, and he had taken the credit card as well. She tried calling her best friend, Lavender, and found that she was out shopping. After bothering the maids for a bit, and searching the entire house for a credit card or even a set of car keys, she sat down and pouted. Frowning, the gorgeous redhead had sat on the DeCoro chaise lounge for an hour trying to think of something interesting to do. This was very difficult, as she usually just went around spending money on a credit card that never really seemed to max out. But Annabel didn't worry about things like that; that was Jon's job.

When she heard the front door open, and someone stop to put keys into a dish that was _so_ old it was past even retro. "_Jon_!" the redhead screeched too loudly from the living room.

Jonathan gritted his teeth as the name his girlfriend called him echoed through the house. One of the maids gave him a pointed look from a doorway as he walked into the living room. He knew exactly what kind of day it had been at his home while he was away. Jonathan had taken every credit card, and anything that would vaguely resemble a card in Annabel's eyes, to the asylum, and hid all keys in the house. He looked around at the disarray in the living room that was no doubt spread to the rest of the house, and met his girlfriend's large, hazel eyes that had adorned many magazine covers.

"You were supposed to be home for lunch an _hour_ ago, Jon. Don't you love me? You're so busy with work all the time now…" She said to him, whining. He ignored her comment, amused that the girl believed herself to be in love with him after only a month and a half of knowing him. "And I can't find those cute, little fluffy pillows that I bought a couple days ago _anywhere_. Do you know where they went?"

"I have no idea. I have some work to attend to; I'll be in my study." He said, and walked into his office. He was still amazed at how clueless Annabel could be. Every three days, he had some of the maids return most of the purchases that she had made, except of course those that he knew that she would miss terribly. The pillows would probably only occupy her small mind for a few more hours at most. Jonathan sank into his oversized, comfortable armchair, picked up the phone, and dialed the number to the asylum.

"Frank? This is Dr. Crane. There is a woman who is to be admitted; perhaps she has already arrived. I need you to place her in a solitary room, in the medium security ward. And please remove the camera in her room." He said briskly to his head orderly.

"_Of course Dr. Crane. Is she to be placed on any medications?_" Frank asked him. It was very unusual for Dr. Crane to request that the cameras be removed from a medium security patient.

"Not yet Frank… I will speak to you tomorrow." Jonathan said quickly and hung up the phone. He knew that Frank would think that he was acting strangely, but that was of no matter.

"Jon! Where did you go?" Annabel screeched from the living room. Jonathan sighed and walked out of his office and into the living room.

Amber awoke with a terrible headache. Slowly, she examined the room she was in. It reminded her of the hospital strongly. The room was completely white, and she was lying on a small, rather uncomfortable bed that was suspended from chains. There was a tiny window that was obviously created to be unbreakable. She also noticed that there was a table fashioned out of light wood, and a padded chair. In the corner, there was a wall that hid what she assumed to be the bathroom from view of the door.

She tried to recall what had happened. The last thing that she remembered was being nearly hit by a taxi. But how had she managed to walk out in front of the taxi in the first place? She had lived in New York City all her life, and was no stranger to the busy streets. Then she remembered with dread the man who was standing behind her, and the violent shove that he had given her.

He seemed to be so familiar, but his face was slightly blurred in her memory. The only thing that she could recall about him was his dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. She frowned, trying to find him in her mind. She was interrupted in her thoughts by two loud clicking noises, and a large door that she hadn't noticed before opening. She looked up curiously at the new man who entered. He had brown hair that was shot with grey, warm brown eyes, and was dressed like a doctor. "Ms. Larks?" He asked her quietly. "I was instructed to remove the camera in your room. Are you hungry?"

"No. When will I be allowed to leave?" Amber asked briskly, assuming that she was in the hospital.

"Dr. Crane didn't tell me that. I assume that you will be let out in about a week. That is our usual time period for watching people with your, umm, condition."

"What condition? Where am I and who are you?" Amber was panicked, she wasn't in the hospital, and she didn't like the sound of Crane being around.

"My name is Frank, and you are in the medium security ward at Riverside Asylum. You apparently jumped in front of a cab, trying to commit suicide." He informed her quietly.

"I did NOT jump into traffic! I was pushed! I demand to be released from this asylum immediately!" She felt a twinge of fear as she screamed this. Her editor had warned her something like this would happen. But she had insisted upon reporting on everything that had happened in Gotham City three months ago. And look where it had gotten her. If only she had listened to her photographer, Brian, and broken the golden rule of reporting; never share any information that you get with the cops before you make some money off it. "I want a psychiatric examination to confirm my mental health." She stated in a calmer tone. The man was unscrewing a small camera from the wall.

"I'm sorry miss, but those can only be handled by Dr. Crane himself, and he isn't expected in until tomorrow." He said. Amber felt like exploding with rage while the man walked out without another word. She attempted to kick the chair, but found that it and the table were bolted to the floor. Scowling, she sat on the bed until she fell asleep.

"How is our new patient?" Jonathan asked Frank.

"She seems to be in good health; although she did request an examination to evaluate her ability to leave. I told her that you wouldn't be in until today." Frank replied.

"That can wait. Did you remove the camera from her room?" He asked him.

"Of course, Dr. Crane…. What is that noise?" Both of them tilted their heads to listen to a faint pounding on one of the walls. Frowning, Jonathan looked at Frank questioningly.

"You locked all the rooms back from your visits?" Jonathan asked him. Frank nodded. "Stay here and watch the cameras to make sure that no one has gotten out."

Jonathan walked out of the office and down the hall. The pounding got louder as he passed through the minimum security. He swiped his card through the clearance device on the wall and stopped to listen once he entered the medium security ward. The noise was definitely coming from a room in this hall. He walked down, and listened at each room, until he found the room that the noise was emanating from. He checked the name plate next to the large white door, and found that his suspicions were true; it was Amber Larks' room.

He knocked briskly twice on her door, and the hammering stopped for a moment, then continued. He opened the door, and returned the glare she immediately gave him when he looked at her. She had been lifting the heavy cot and slamming it against the wall.

"You _bastard_." Amber spat at him. "You are a disgusting excuse for a human."

"Oh, and I was so hoping that we could be good friends, Amber. But if you insist upon insulting me so—"

"I have _every_ right to publish my article on you. You are inhibiting the First Amendment."

"You know that I'm not doing anything wrong until someone catches me. And the chances of that happening are slim. You are in _my_ asylum; I control who you may speak to, if anyone. So tell me Amber, how exactly is someone to find out you are in here?" He said with a triumphant smirk.

Amber felt rage boiling inside her. She tried to control it, but when she felt a sudden rush of blood to her head, she couldn't stop herself. She raised her hand and slapped him hard on his cheek. He looked at her, shocked that she would be so bold, and then gave her the coldest look that she had ever received.

"We will speak again in a few days, Amber. Perhaps then your temperament will have improved." He said, glaring, and stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy metal door behind him. Amber was pleased that she had managed to make him so angry, and happily went back lifting her bed up and slamming it against the wall. After a few times, her arms got tired, and she looked around the room again. A dark object caught her eye, and she stretched her arm out to get it. Examining it, she saw that it was a security clearance card, with Crane's unsmiling face on the picture ID on the back.

Suddenly, she heard a sharp knocking on her door. "Amber?" a familiar voice said.

"Missing something, Crane?" she replied cheerfully. "Oh, we will have fun now." She was overjoyed. "This really _is _a lovely card. But what a horrible face on the back. I think that I might just, oh, flush it down the toilet…"


	3. A New Patient

"NO!" Crane sounded panicked.

"And why shouldn't I? You've pushed me in front of traffic, nearly killing me, and now you've locked me up in this jail cell. I want out."

"I can't let you out. You would be forced to stay in here, or in another hospital ward; and I don't think that I need to tell you about the conditions there."

"How long?"

"A few weeks. Things may be very comfortable, or…not."

"Is that a _threat_ Crane? Wow, that toilet looks quite lovely." She said cheerfully.

"Of _course_ it's not a threat, Amber. I'm simply stating that I could improve things substantially." He replied coolly. Amber smiled; he was nearly begging for it back.

"What could be improved?" She asked him.

"Oh, many things. I could have you moved to a larger room. I believe that you would find that there are sheets on the bed there, along with a pillow. I would also allow you some activities in your cell. And better food." She felt a pang in her stomach when he mentioned the food; she was very hungry. Something to do besides plot evil things that she would love to do to him also sounded nice.

"What kinds of things could I do?" She didn't dare mention the food; she thought that it would be giving in too much.

"Draw, read, there are all kinds of music that I could allow you."

"I want all of the above, and I want to be allowed to paint."

"Done. And the food?" He asked her. He sounded relieved.

"I suppose that it couldn't hurt. But first I want you to promise me that you won't cheat me."

"…Fine."

Jonathan couldn't believe that he had been so careless to drop his card, and now this woman had extracted a promise from him to improve her living conditions. He refused to lie, or to break promises; it would put him closer to the riff-raff that was locked up here. The card slid through the bottom of the door quickly. He snatched it up. He had been desperate to get it back. The card had been specially made in Japan. It was hideously expensive, and it would take at least a month to get another.

He sighed with relief and walked up to the main security office. Frank was waiting there with a questioning look on his face. "Sir, why were you talking to Ms. Larks through her door?" he asked him politely. Jonathan felt irritated that Frank was watching him on the camera, but he then he remembered what wing of the asylum that he had been in. It was only logical that he was watching to make sure that there was not something wrong.

"Oh, I just had to mention something to her." He said simply. He could tell that Frank was doubtful of this, and was suddenly glad that the cameras couldn't record sound. He didn't want Frank to hear him begging for his card back. "Do we have any paints around here?" Jonathan asked him suddenly.

"Umm, yes, I believe that there are some left over from when we still had the group art therapy." Frank answered slowly. Jonathan smiled.

"Excellent, could you send some down to our new patient?"

"Certainly, Dr. Crane." He replied.

Frank scowled as he dug through the dusty closet in the basement. It wasn't usually like him to question Dr. Crane's orders, but there was something distinctly suspicious about this new patient of his. She didn't seem to be psychotic, only confused and distraught that she had been brought here. And then there was the business of waiting to give her an examination. When a patient requested a psychological examination it was always to be of first importance and generally considered a sign that they could leave.

Spotting the paints and paper, but no brushes, Frank grabbed them and stalked out of the basement, slamming the door behind him. This was not the way that Adam Crane would have run things, the current Dr. Crane's late father. Frank had also heard what Dr. Crane had said to the patient when he was outside; unbeknownst to him, Frank had sound capabilities installed in the cameras when he was gone. It was rather disturbing that the lady was not to be allowed any visitors. Surely her family would want to come and speak with her when they heard about what happened. But Dr. Crane knew best, Frank thought as he walked down the hall to Amber's room.

"Miss, you wanted some paints?" Frank asked her through the slot in her door.

"Please." She replied listlessly. He handed them through the slot cautiously.

"I'm quite sorry, but I can't find any brushes. We seem to be missing them."

"Oh, that won't be a problem. Thank you." She replied. Frank frowned. This woman seemed to be in fine mental health; but it could all be a guise. After all, a man in the most violent ward also seemed polite and courteous, and he had murdered twelve people in a most unpleasant fashion. Sighing he walked back up to his office to finish paperwork.

Excellent, Amber thought with happiness. Crane had been stupid enough to give her the paints. She unscrewed the top of the blue paint while examining the label. 'Non-Toxic Daisy Paints'; it said in curly letters. Reading it closely, she saw that there was a warning not to get any on clothing. That meant that it wasn't washable. She grinned as she flung paint at the walls. It would be a lovely night.

As she threw the paint on the walls, she plotted on how to get out. There would be no chance of escape right now; Crane would be watching her too closely. But she could start on her article now, she thought as she looked at the paper. She finished her masterpiece on the once stark-white walls, and sat down on her bed. Digging a pen out of her pocket, she thought about what exactly to include in the article. It seemed to be that all of New York saw Jonathan Crane as an angel. Amber smiled; oh how far from the truth it really was.

Nearly three months ago, Dr. Jonathan Crane was the Administrator of Arkham Asylum in Gotham City. He had disappeared the night it had nearly been destroyed by a fear toxin that had been released into the air by the infamous Scarecrow, claiming that he had been visiting his sister in India. Not many people questioned the wonderful Dr. Crane's alibi, and Amber had the feeling that those who did were given a great deal of money or disappeared. She had been promised a promotion at the _New York Observer_ if she could disprove this alibi, but her editor had warned her that she could easily not wake up one morning while covering the story, or worse, be woken up by a man in a heavy burlap mask.

Amber hadn't thought that it was that much of a threat then; after all, how on earth could Dr. Crane know that she was checking into his background? Obviously he had found out and now she was going to be in this asylum until someone figured out what had happened to her. She wondered what the connection Dr. Crane had to the League of Shadows that was connected to the events in Gotham City, or his connections to the Scarecrow.

An hour later, she looked at her watch, and to her surprise, saw that it was about 8:30. She was extremely bored, and had finished her article. She climbed up on the chair in the room, and looked out the window. The sun was just finishing setting, leaving vibrant streaks of orange, gold, and red-pink across the horizon. She looked over the Atlantic, and thought about what she would be doing at home. Probably just sitting around, or watching TV. She hadn't had a boyfriend in around three months now. Lexi would have left at least five messages at the apartment, and was probably looking for her, but how could she possibly know that Amber was in an asylum; Riverside Asylum nonetheless. Amber wanted to play with the small bouncing ball that she always carried with her, but she was afraid that she would have it taken away.

Her editor, Mark Alexander would be looking for her as well, but probably only to fire her. She had now missed two days of work, without notifying him. When she got out though, she could explain everything to him. There would be weeks to endure of I-Told-You-So, but he would give her job back. That was assuming that she would get out of here of course. Amber felt dread building inside her as she thought about the awful possibility of Crane never letting her out. As she thought about this, she felt the fear sink into hopelessness. Of course he would never let her out. She had uncovered his past, and was determined to tell everyone about it. Amber was shocked to feel tears starting to flow down her cheeks. As she lay down on her bed, she was grateful that the camera had been taken out of her room and sobbed herself to sleep.

Jonathan paced around the main office. He could feel Frank watching him as he sat down at his desk. A two contacts of Amber's had already called the asylum, and he had been forced to schedule them appointments as to not appear suspicious. He wasn't sure yet how he was going to keep her here so that she wouldn't publish her article in the newspaper. Looking at the papers on his desk, he saw that one of the patients hadn't had their medications yet. As he was about to ask Frank to give them to the patient, when an idea struck him. He got up and unlocked the room that the medications were in. He chose two bottles carefully, and walked down the hall.

Amber woke to a sharp tapping at her door, groggily, she sat up as the door opened with a breeze of fresh air rushed in. "I knew it was an awful idea to give you those. But I thought, oh no, she wouldn't do that! Well, I've been wrong before…" Crane said when he eyed the splattered paint. Amber eyed him suspiciously. He had a dish of what looked like wonderful food in his hand, and water in the other. "Hungry?" Crane asked her.

"A little." She replied uneasily. He scanned her face without emotion.

"Have you been crying?" He asked her as he set the food down on the table. It took most of her strength not to leap up and devour the steaming food.

"No. I get allergies this time of year." She said.

"What are you allergic to?" He asked her. She knew that he didn't believe her.

"None of your business." She replied stiffly. He nodded his head and stared at her. She found that she couldn't look into his bright blue eyes for very long, and looked away.

"We will speak in the morning." He said as he walked out.

"Unfortunately." She muttered after him as she got up to eat. It was delicious food. After she was done, she set the dishes in a neat pile at the corner of the table. Crane's reaction to her painting wasn't what she expected. She wanted him to at least be a little upset, and perhaps yell a bit, but not completely brush it off as though it was just something a silly child would do, and would need to be cleaned up. _Maybe that's what he thinks I am_, Amber thought with pleasure. He would be proven very wrong when she typed up her article on him.

Amber paced the room, what if she never got the chance to publish her article? Speaking of which, where was it? She thought with sudden dismay searching the relatively small room quickly. Crane must have taken it when he walked in, along with the other papers. She scowled, knowing that he had purposefully taken advantage of her hunger and distraction with the food. She sat down on her bed, and leaned against the wall. She looked up quickly when the door opened again. A man she didn't know brought in a new girl, who looked to be 18 or so. She had brilliant emerald green eyes and dyed bright blue hair. The man walked out quickly, leaving the girl.

"Hi, I'm Anna. Nice to meet you." She said cheerfully. Amber nodded without saying anything. She wasn't sure what to make of the new patient, and fervently hoped that Crane hadn't booked her with some kind of horrible psychotic as punishment for her mural. "Who are you?" the girl asked her quickly.

"I'm Amber." She paused for a moment, wondering just how to word her next question for Anna. "Umm, this might sound a little rude, but why exactly are you in here?"

"Me? I'm a student; studying the conditions at asylums." She replied cheerfully. "So, why are _you_ in here?"

"I was pushed in front of a taxi, and the hospital thought that I jumped."

"Oh." She looked around for a moment, and spotted the painted picture. "Nice. You paint it?"

"Yeah." Amber was relieved that the girl wasn't insane. At least not in the raving, 'I'm going to fucking kill you!' way. She did seem to be a bit hyper though.

"So how long you have been in here?"

"About two days now."

"They got any music? It must get _really_ boring in here…" Anna was studying every corner of the room, and then climbed on the table to look out the window.

"You have no idea." Amber replied dryly. "Hungry?"

"Nah. I kinda need somewhere to sleep…" Anna said while looking at Amber's bed. "That looks uncomfortable. Is it?"

"Of course, but it's good for getting attention quickly." Anna frowned. Amber proceeded to get up and start slamming the bed against the wall loudly. Soon, the door swooshed open.

"What do you want? Must you insist on creating all kinds of _noise_?" Crane complained loudly. Amber narrowed her eyes.

"Anna needs somewhere to sleep. And why are you always around? It's creepy." Amber said shortly, and glanced over at Anna.

"Wow, he's hot." Anna said, sounding surprised. Amber looked over at her, horrified. "What? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." She replied to Amber's look. Amber rolled her eyes and looked back at Crane.

"Whatever. Umm, yeah, so you could bring in another bed, right?"

"Of course…" He said slowly, giving her a strange look, and then looking back at Anna.

"What's your problem?" Amber snapped at him. He looked at her oddly.

"Nothing. I am going to bring, Anna's, bed and then I'm going home. If you need something, go about in the normal fashion of pressing that little button on the door. The night personnel aren't used to your antics." He said quickly while motioning to a button on the wall, and walked out.

"Wonder why he was acting so strange…" Amber muttered.

"Probably the hair. Not a lot of people are used to seeing someone with blue, 'specially not his sort." Anna replied simply. There was a brisk knock at the door, and an orderly walked in, pushing a small cot. They slammed the door behind them. "Wonderful!" Anna squealed as she jumped on it. "Hey, are there any more paints?" She asked Amber cheerfully.

"Yeah, you want to paint some stuff on the walls?"

"No, I just want you to. And try and paint something real; not meaning that what you have now isn't sweet!"

Amber grabbed the paint and stuck her fingers in it and painted a dark tree. Anna sat in silence as she was watching her. Amber liked Anna; she reminded her of Lexi in her bright and cheerful way. Amber soon lost herself in the painting, and when she came out of her trance, Anna was asleep. Careful not to wake her, Amber crept into bed.


	4. The Annabel Incident

"Amber! Come on, you've gotta wake up! There's somebody watching us!" A voice said quickly. Amber groaned and rolled over. "_Amber!_ Come on! They're pointing at you now!" Amber slowly recognized the voice as belonging to Anna, and sat up groggily.

"I dunno! That hot guy who was in here last night, and an old guy, oh, and there's a _really_ tall chick out there too!" Anna replied quickly.

"Well that's descriptive. What does the girl look like?" Amber got up slowly and walked over to the door. To her surprise, her editor and the psychiatrist that she was working with on her article were standing outside. Amber felt overjoyed, she could finally go home. Surely they would release her; especially with Dr. Elanor being with Mark. She had to have an examination before the doctor would help her with Crane.

"I think that they've came to get you." Anna said.

"I hope so. It's been awful here. But maybe they'll feed me once more before they release me." Amber replied hopefully. She saw the people standing outside shake their heads, and start to walk down the hall. "Hey, where are they going? No, don't leave me! COME BACK!" She screamed through the door. _They must just be going to fill out paperwork to release me_… Amber thought hopefully.

"What's going on here, Dr. Crane? When I examined her, she certainly wasn't showing any signs of schizophrenia." Dr. Elanor said carefully. The editor, Mark, was apprehensive as well.

"I must say that I agree with the doctor; she's never been delusional before…" He said.

"Symptoms can be hidden well to close friends and colleagues."

"That's a usually rare case." She replied stiffly. Jonathan narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Well, I'm sure you saw her in there, she certainly wasn't faking." Jonathan replied coolly. Dr. Elanor nodded, frowning.

"Well, Dr. Crane, when do you think that she can get out of there?" Mark asked him.

"Oh, it will be a few weeks at least. Ms. Larks was first admitted for suspected suicide, as you know, but with this new development…" Jonathan trailed off in thought. "Who knows?" He said finally. Dr. Elanor was still eyeing him suspiciously. "Well, I'm quite sorry Dr. Elanor and Mr. Alexander, but I do have another appointment with a potential client's family that is due in any time now." Mark nodded, and they walked out the front doors. Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief as soon as they left. Mark wasn't terribly bright, but the woman could certainly catch onto his plot. He would have to be careful from now on. He walked calmly down the halls, noting with pleasure at how quite the soundproof walls made it in the asylum; at most others, the screams of the irrevocably insane resonated throughout the facility.

"Amber? Would you like something to eat?" He asked though the small speaker on the door.

"Bastard." A cold voice said through the speaker back.

"Well, I suppose that you can just go the rest of the night without food then." He said offhandedly. He heard a sigh that sounded like a gush of static through the speaker.

"I really don't want anything, but Anna's hungry."

"Really? And what would _Anna_ like to eat?"

"Why do you act like that whenever you're talking about her? It's not like she can't hear you…"

"Please just answer my question." He said with a frown. He knew that the medication would have the desired effect of hallucinations, but he didn't think that it would drive her all the way to invent an entire persona in her mind's eye. It would usually be quite fascinating to observe, but he wasn't sure what kinds of effects it would have on her true mental health if she continued speaking to a figment of her imagination. _And that would ruin most of the fun I could have with her_, Crane thought with slight disappointment.

"She says that she wants some kind of salad. She's mostly vegetarian, but she says that she'll eat some chicken and turkey, and that's _it_. But you had to have known that from your files." She replied stiffly.

"Of course. I'll be back soon." He heard another sigh on the other end, and shut off the radio. Usually the food in the asylum wouldn't be very good, especially in the medium security ward, where there was a limited selection of foods available for the patients to consume. The food always had to be able to be eaten without the use of silverware, even spoons, and furthermore, had to be easy to clean up when one had a tantrum and threw it all over. Jonathan walked into the kitchen at the end of the hall. He had brought some things from his home pantry to fix for Amber, hoping to practice his culinary skills.

Jonathan was thrilled when he heard her speaking to Anna about wanting some more of the food before she left. His father and mother had always discouraged him from the kitchen, as it was the work of the chefs and other servants in the house. But the head chef took pity on him and let him into the kitchen without his parent's knowledge.

There, he learned fine culinary arts quietly, and after his parents' mysterious disappearance, was taken in by the chef and eventually with the money that his parents had intended for his education in a business related field to study culinary arts. He wondered what had happened after he left home for so long as he sliced chicken into fine pieces. When he had returned to the house, it had been abandoned by the many servants. But that was a bit too painful to think about before he was going to face Amber. She was certainly an admirable foe; bright yet a bit naive. He liked that aspect of her. He wondered how much longer he should keep her in the ward. There would be no stopping her from publishing the article now that he had failed to end her life on the busy street.

He smiled as he finished, feeling proud of his Asian style creation. It was certainly one of his better chicken dishes, the chicken being cooked perfectly, and then he had added a sauce on top that had a distinct taste of citrus. On the side was steaming vegetables added to brown rice. He carried it carefully out of the kitchen and into the elevator, narrowing his eyes at an orderly who was watching him pointedly from the office as the doors closed with a swoosh of cool air.

He walked out on the seventh floor, and down to Amber's cell. He heard her having a conversation with the illusion, and knocked on the thick door to alert her of his presence. He opened the door quickly. "I hope that this will be to _Anna's_ liking…?" He asked, watching Amber carefully.

"Yeah." She replied in a bored tone. She hadn't even bothered to get up from her bed this time. "Can you go?"

Jonathan was a bit taken back at this new change in Amber's attitude, and was slightly worried. He wondered just what Anna had been telling Amber. He walked out the door after carefully setting his food on the table.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" Amber asked Anna curiously after Crane had left.

"I dunno. Maybe later; I don't like to eat in front of other people." Anna replied. Amber nodded. "Amber, I'm leaving later tonight. I'm not going to be here when you wake up. But I want you to remember one thing: You were not meant to be caged up in here like this. I want you to get out of this place, before that Crane guy poisons your mind worse than it already is." Amber frowned at this statement, but didn't interrupt Anna as she went on. "Now, look at your clothes, they are the key to getting out of here. They will be coming sometime soon for the laundry, but _do not_ let them take your clothing. I know how gross that must sound, you've probably been in them for a while now, but that is one thing that separates you from the true crazies in here. And have you noticed how much trust Crane has put in you? You can use it well…" Anna said with a flick of her blue hair. Amber listened intently as Anna described what seemed like the perfect plan.

"I'll stay up tonight, I should say good bye when they take you, after you've helped me so much." Amber said after they were done discussing the plans. Anna smiled sadly and shrugged.

"Your choice." She said. They chatted for a while, and Amber looked out the window and found that it was late at night when she and Anna had finally run out of things to discuss. Amber yawned loudly, and tried to fight off drowsiness, but in the end it was no avail when Anna stopped speaking, and she drifted into sleep.

"I want you to leave, Annabel." Jonathan said to his girlfriend when she was sitting on the couch, looking slightly dazed the next morning. Annabel was never at her brightest during the morning, but Jonathan seriously wondered how he would know when Annabel was feeling clever.

It was a strange relationship to begin with. Crane hated the feeling of being so fake as to have to date her, but in order for Annabel's father to sponsor the building of the new asylum, he had to do something. Crane felt a bit guilty about leading Annabel's father on, and making it look like he might be interested in a serious relationship with her, but he needed this new facility built.

"What?" She asked him in disbelief.

"_I _want _you_ to _leave_." He repeated very slowly for her. She frowned in confusion. Jonathan imagined that it would probably be very hard for her to understand; most guys in his position would be begging her to stay, but he just couldn't stand it anymore. Not only did she have the relative intelligence of a goldfish, she was also starting to be rather impolite to the maids. Once his words had sunk in, Annabel looked perfectly horrified and tears started to form in her eyes.

"You're breaking up with me? But why Jon? I love you!" She whimpered. Jonathan felt rather nauseous at her display.

"Take your things; I would prefer if you were gone by the time that I come home." He replied to her. Tears started to fall down her perfect skin. He decided that he should probably get his coffee quickly from the kitchen, and leave before the shock and sadness that Annabel was feeling turned to anger. He strode briskly into the kitchen and grabbed the mug that was waiting for him on the counter quickly. Jonathan felt slightly guilty about leaving the maids to deal with Annabel's tantrum, but he was sure that they would find someway to handle her.

"Now, why did you do that? Couldn't you have done something like, send her off to Hawaii and then _call_ her to break up? You're lucky Mr. Crane; _you _won't have to put up with her all day." The head maid said to him quietly. They looked up quickly at the sound of something shattering against the wall. "Ten bucks says that was the crystal vase." The maid said dryly. Jonathan sighed and nodded. "You might want to take this; that girl might not have that many brains, no offense meant Mr. Crane, but she _can_ throw." The maid said as she handed him a large skillet.

"Thanks." Jonathan accepted it and pushed open the door while holding the skillet up to shield his face. Just as the maid predicted, another piece of china shattered against it.

"_HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME_?" Annabel shrieked while she a teacup from the display hanging from the wall.

"I believe that I've already given you the reasons, Annabel." He said as he backed quickly out the door. She screamed and chased him down the hall. He saw that she had left all possible throwing items in the living room, and dropped the skillet while breaking into a sprint. Luckily, Annabel was anything but athletic, and she couldn't keep up with him easily. He spotted a car waiting for him in the long driveway, and tried to reach it before Annabel got out of the house. The keys were on the sitting on the hood. Quickly, he grabbed them and tried to force one in the door, but it wouldn't go in.

"Damn it!" He swore loudly after the second key wasn't working on the door either. That left one key, and it thankfully worked. Annabel grabbed him at the same moment that he opened the door. Despite his best efforts, she flung herself into the car and crawled into the backseat. He groaned when he saw her glaring at him. She would have usually presented a rather comical picture; makeup running down her perfect cheeks, making trails of black and dark brown. One of her heels had broken, and her skirt and shirt were torn from the effort of her running.

"What? Are you going to come with me to work?" He asked her sarcastically.

"Yes." She replied. He ignored her as he drove to the asylum. She let out a small scream when he slammed on the brakes to park the car in its usual spot, and got out. He didn't wait for Annabel as she climbed out rather ungracefully out of the backseat. "Jon!" She cried. He ignored her as he walked into the doors. She hurried to catch up with him. He straightened his hair as he walked past the receptionist, smiling at her. The woman looked at Annabel with a raised eyebrow, but made no comment as she opened the door for them.

Jonathan walked up to the office, walking quickly to try and lose Annabel, but it was hopeless.

"Dr. Crane, what is…?" Frank asked him curiously when he walked in, Annabel following closely.

"Please don't ask." Jonathan cut off his head orderly quickly. "There hasn't been any trouble here I hope?"

"No, although we believe that there was an attempted suicide in minimum security." Frank replied while eyeing Annabel. She glared profusely at him in response.

Jonathan walked out, and decided to try and tire Annabel out by pacing up and down all eight floors of the asylum. It was to no avail, and she was nearly in tears again when they reached the seventh floor.

Amber was disappointed the next morning when she awoke to find that what Anna had said was true. There was no sign that another person had even been here; the cot wasn't messy at all, and looked just as when Crane had brought it in. The salad was still untouched on the table, and Amber was munching the chicken half-heartedly when the sun arose in the distance. She recalled the plot that Anna had told her the previous night and decided that she would try it soon. She knew that Crane would probably arrive soon to torment her or to bring her a fresh breakfast.

She was looking out the window when she heard muffled voices out in the hall. Tilting her head to one side to listen, she found that she couldn't hear them very well and walked over to her door to listen. Amber opened the small slot on her door that was probably meant for food to be passed through and a woman's shrill voice sounded inside her room loudly.

"How could you do this to me? You're always gone and you never seem to want to talk to me anymore! Jon, I thought you _loved_ me!" Amber smiled to herself, Jonathan Crane, actually having any emotions, especially love; now that was amusing. She wondered who the speaker was, and then remembered that Crane had been dating the British model, Annabel Lindor. From what she gathered from her sources inside the house, Annabel wasn't very bright.

"Annabel. I've been seeing you for a month. That usually consisted of you sitting in _my_ house, or spending _my_ money. Now if you don't leave, I will ask the orderlies to escort you out." Crane's voice replied coldly to her. There was a sob, and she heard someone running down the hall.

Amber felt badly. She found it hard to sympathize with girls like Annabel, but the poor model certainly didn't deserve this. She shut the opening on her door quietly and sighed when she heard the door slam at the end of the hall. If he had that much sympathy for his girlfriend, how much could she expect? She thought that she heard Crane pacing in the hall, but she wasn't sure and didn't feel like getting up to check. Soon, she heard a second slamming of the door. Amber ate more chicken while she brooded on the subject. She didn't expect that Crane would come to visit her today, thankfully, and she sat down to paint more things on the walls.


	5. Roxi's Arrival

After she had finished adding a few more details to the tree, and had finished her salad, she heard a rough knocking at the door. She was expecting the door to open to emit Crane, but instead the small slot on the door opened and something that was obviously pretending to be food was shoved in and dropped on the floor. Amber crinkled her nose at the sight of it, and walked over slowly to examine it. It appeared to be noodles, and she poked it warily. It didn't smell like much, and she examined it further to find that it had peanuts in it; the only food that she was allergic to. Amber decided to leave the food sitting near the door as she paced around her cell. Anna's plan was certainly wonderful, but how could she act upon it if Crane was going to ignore her? And speaking of Anna, where was she? It didn't seem like her to make her bed so neatly. She paced around the small cell, thinking about these things. She was delighted to hear a tapping on her cell door.

"Ms. Larks? Do you know a Mr. Penning? He came here to visit you." Amber heard Frank ask from the other side of the door.

"C'mon Larks! I told you I'd bail you out of jail, but the damn _asylum_ is pushin' it." Brian said in his usual dry tone. Amber was pleased to hear the photographer that she worked with at the _New York Observer. _The door opened cautiously as Frank let the tall man in.

"I'll be back in about ten minutes for you." Frank said to Brian.

"Whatever…" Brian replied, bored. Frank narrowed his eyes at Brian's tone, but didn't comment as he turned on his heel and walked out. "So what the hell did you do to land your ass in here?" He asked Amber as she sat down at the table.

"Me? I didn't do anything! That Crane asshole that I'm writing my article on shoved me into the damn road!" Amber replied, mimicking his swearing. She could tell that Brian thought that it was funny when she spoke with the typical filthy New York language.

"Yeah right, Larks. We all know you went off the deep end _years_ ago." He said. Amber rolled her eyes.

"So, you've come to get me out, right?" Amber asked him nervously. Brian grimaced.

"Uhh, actually, they kinda told me at the front desk that only family or Crane can spring you. Sorry." He told her quietly. Amber felt like screaming, but inhaled deeply to avoid it. She worried that if she made too much noise that Frank would come to drag Brian off again.

"Damn. You know I don't have any relatives around here…" Brian nodded. "And there is _no_ chance of Crane letting me out… So what's going to happen?"

"I guess you're kind of, fucked." He replied simply. "Mark said that it looked like you'd lost it when he came with that other shrink, but I think he still wants that article. I brought you some writing stuff and better paper. Although it really doesn't look like you've used any of the stuff they brought…" He grinned as he looked around at the walls. "Nice."

Amber smiled in return as she took the pen and paper from Brian. "Think that you can come by tomorrow to pick it up?"

"You think that I can get in here tomorrow? The only reason that I got in here is probably because Crane doesn't know about this!" He asked her in disbelief. "I could probably swing by sometime next week though. You'll have it done by then?"

"I've already written up one copy. Crane took it though. And it's not like I have anything better to do here anyway."

"Are you saying that you actually had a life before? Maybe you should stay in here for a while." He told her. She mock glared at him. They turned their attentions to the door when they heard a rough knocking at the other end. "Looks like it's time for me to leave. Have fun, Larks." Brian said as he followed the large orderly out. Amber sighed and got to work on her article.

Around noon, Amber heard another tapping at the door. Sighing with irritation at being interrupted in her writing, she hastily shoved the unfinished article underneath her pillow. A different asylum worker opened the door.

"Don't move. If you do move we will restrain you." He said simply as he walked in slowly. He had a can of Mace poised to shoot her. She followed his instructions and sat where she was. The man glanced around the cell quickly, glaring at her mural. Finally he spotted her plate that she had shoved in the corner. "Why are you not eating?"

"I can't; I'm allergic to some of the stuff in it." Amber said. He didn't answer her as he picked up her plate quickly, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Dr. Crane will be informed if you do not eat this plate of food. Do you intend to eat it?"

"Maybe if I actually _can_…" She muttered. The man stared at her for a moment, and then walked out carefully. Amber hurried over to the door after he shut it and opened the small slot. She made sure that no one was in the hall before she got out the article again. She finished the article and edited it briefly. She looked out the window after she was done and to her surprise, the sun was already setting.

Her stomach growled loudly as she eyed the food. She walked over and poked the food once again to find that it had the dreaded nuts in it. She glared at it, and threw it against the wall in frustration. Luckily, she missed her painting. She stalked over to the door, and opened the slot. "Excuse me. Hello?" She called out from the small opening carefully. She looked across the hall from the window in her door and saw that the occupant of the cell across the hall from hers was staring at her with wide eyes. It made her uncomfortable and she hoped that someone would give her attention soon. "Hello?"

"What do ya want?" A loud and slightly irritated voice replied from the end of the hall.

"I'm hungry." She said.

"Meals have already gone out." The voice replied loudly.

"But I can't eat it!"

"What's the matter with it? The aliens do something to it again?" There was a sarcastic tone in the voice this time. Snickering followed this. Amber sighed in frustration.

"No. I'm _allergic_ to peanuts." She replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

"Dr. Crane wouldn't have said that you were supposed to eat that if you were really allergic. So close your mouth and shut your window or we'll lock it."

"I want to talk to Dr. Crane if that is alright." Amber replied.

"He's not here. Shut up and close your hole!" The voice was finally aggravated with her. Amber closed her slot slowly; it was better not to have the speaking slot locked incase she saw Crane walking down the hall. Amber started slamming her cot against the wall in frustration, something she hadn't done for a while. She only had to do it a few times before big men in white outfits came in to her room without knocking.

She screamed as they grabbed her roughly, handcuffing her and putting her in shackles so she couldn't resist them. They dragged her out of her room and down the hall. The person who she assumed that she was speaking with before glared at her from the office, but didn't say anything as the men took her into a room across the hall from the office. They took the shackles off of her feet and secured them to a table like thing with secure leather straps, then took off the handcuffs so that they could strap those on the table as well.

"You've been quite a problem lately. You want to talk to Dr. Crane? You can wait for him in here." She glared and opened her mouth to reply harshly, but the men forced a face mask on her that kept her mouth shut.

"I think she need's the shocks." One of them said thickly.

"No. We'd be in so much trouble!" The one who gagged her replied.

"Why? She's just a crazy! Crane wouldn't find out…"

"_You _can give her them. This one's different; I think Crane actually _cooks_ for her. There are plenty of other people in here that we can get tomorrow." After the guard said this, Amber was horrified. She couldn't believe that these people would actually still give the patients here shock therapy. And only for their own sick amusement as well. She watched as they lumbered out and shut the door behind them, leaving her in nearly complete darkness. It was interesting that the reason that she had been eating so well here was because Crane had been cooking for her himself; she thought as she lay in the darkness.

"Mr. Crane?" A maid called to Jonathan as he watched the moving van load up Annabel's many clothing items. He turned to her after the last piece was loaded and looked at the maid. She was new, and he could tell by the way that she didn't meet his icy blue gaze. He waited patiently for her to speak further. "The chef wanted to know what you would prefer to have to eat; he says that there is a lovely salmon in the freezer, or some fresh steaks have just been delivered." She said quickly.

"The steak sounds delightful." Jonathan replied. The maid nodded and scurried away. He watched her and was slightly amused when she shuddered after she believed he couldn't see her anymore. He looked over the lawn and saw a black Mercedes pull in the driveway. Jonathan didn't recognize the car, but had a sinking feeling when he saw the driver get out.

The woman who got out of the car was tall, with dyed black hair and contacts that made her eyes appear red. She was dressed in black baggy pants that had many zippers and patches on the legs, and her top was a deep blood red. She looked around the yard and at the house before spotting him next to the large fountain and walking over slowly. Jonathan noted with distaste that she wore large black combat boots with bright red shoelaces.

"Do I want to know where you bought such ridiculous clothes, Roxanna?" Jonathan asked the woman when she finally reached him. She grinned at him, and he noted that she had some of her teeth filed into points.

"Hey! It's Roxi now! And these are custom made, actually." She met his bright blue eyes with her own crimson ones. Jonathan rolled his eyes and nodded. "What? You don't like them, Little Brother? I'm hurt."

"I never liked that style and neither did our parents when they were still around. It makes you look _scruffy_." He said the last word with extreme distaste. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Just thought that I'd drop in for a nice chat. See how your new _patient_ was at the asylum…" Roxi replied carefully while looking at his expression. Nervousness flitted across his face to be quickly replaced with confusion a moment later. Jonathan looked at her quickly and he knew that he had not fooled her, but persisted anyway.

"I wouldn't know which patient you're speaking of. We have gotten many new ones in the past week…" Jonathan said innocently. He opened the door to the house without looking at her and walked inside quickly.

"Bullshit. You know what one I'm talking about. The reporter chick." Roxi told him. He looked at her carefully and wondered which one of his employees had been talking to her. Most likely Frank; he thought with slight anger.

"Ms. Larks is doing quite well." He replied carefully. Roxi looked at him suspiciously and opened her mouth to say something but his cell phone rang suddenly and he snatched it out of his pocket.

"Hello?" He answered while his older sister glared at him. He raised his eyebrows as if to suggest that he had no idea of what he had done to annoy her. She flipped him off and stalked into the kitchen.

"Dr. Crane, so sorry to bother you at home, but we have a slight problem with a patient here. Amber Larks? She has been repeatedly disruptive and is refusing to eat. She says that she wants to speak with you." His receptionist said quickly. He sighed.

"Where is she now?"

"We have been holding her in the heavy confinement area for about half an hour now. Do you think that you could come down and calm her down? She won't speak to the physiatrist on duty now."

"Of course. I'll be down in a moment." Jonathan replied coolly.

"So, what's she puttin' in the papers?" Roxi asked him when she walked out of the kitchen with a red apple. "She going to tell how you're completely and totally off your rocker and need to be locked up yourself? And speaking of needing to be locked up, where's that model you've been dating?" Roxi asked, looking around.

"We aren't seeing each other anymore." He replied simply, ignoring his sister's comments with difficulty.

"Damn, she was fun to mess with. So, seeing anyone new?" Roxi asked him.

"That is really none of your business, _Roxanna_." Jonathan was pleased to see that using her full name irked her greatly. "Now I need to leave. If you are hungry, you can eat something. We're having steaks for dinner." He said while walking out the door.

Amber had mixed feelings when she saw Crane walk in the small, dark room. At first, she was relieved that he was finally here and that she would probably be let out if she behaved nicely. But then she thought about who was really saving her from her misery in the room and she felt apprehension. In the end, relief won when she heard her stomach growl loudly. He frowned at her when he heard the noise as well.

"Haven't you eaten since I left? I'm touched that you can't eat when I'm not around." He said. Her reply was muffled by the gag that they had finally tied carefully around her head so that she would stop screaming at the asylum employees. He eyed her suspiciously before speaking again. "Now, I would be very happy to remove that for you; but you _will not_ bite me, or attempt to bite me when I do so. Is that acceptable?" He asked her. She nodded quickly, wanting for the gag to be removed as soon as possible. She nearly flinched when she felt his hands on the side of her cheek, but didn't show it as he untied the knot. "Please answer my question."

"Of course I haven't eaten! What, you expect me to eat that _stuff_ that they shove through the hole in my door? It smells horrible, and then, it has peanuts in it!" She said quickly, happy that the cloth was finally gone from her face.

"You are allergic to peanuts?" Crane asked her, surprised.

"Oh, don't pretend like you didn't know!" Amber said, narrowing her eyes.

"I did not actually…" He muttered.

"Uh-huh."

"Perhaps it would do you well to stay in here for a while." Crane said, smiling coldly at her. She felt a twinge of fear when she looked at his cold blue eyes. She didn't see any emotion in them. Amber looked at him, clearly terrified of the thought of staying in the room for longer. She shook her head.

"_Jonathan!_ You aren't supposed to be upsetting the patients! I thought Daddy told you not to do that before he left!" A woman said sharply from the doorway. She jumped in surprise, and was happy to see that Crane didn't know that she had been there either.

"Roxi…" Crane said tiredly.

"Always lovely to see you too, Jonathan! Is this the reporter? Can I be in your article? I want to be presented in a good way though." The woman who Amber assumed was Roxi seemed to represent the common stereotype of a Goth that she could imagine with her black hair and red eyes. "Well?"

"If I ever get to publish my article, I guess I could put you in it…" Amber said slowly. Roxi looked delighted.

"Wonderful! You can come for dinner then!" Roxi said excitedly. Amber looked over at Crane curiously. He was glaring at Roxi. Amber wondered who this woman was to just walk into the asylum as if she owned it. "Don't you dare look at me like that, Jonathan."

"She absolutely cannot come home with us." Crane said stiffly.

"And why not?" Roxi asked. Perhaps Roxi was Crane's new girlfriend? Amber wondered as she watched Crane glare at her further.

"Because she is emotionally unstable." Crane replied calmly. Roxi frowned.

"No she's not. She isn't babbling on about some conspiracy plot, or screaming at me. She has good reason to scream at _you_ from what I understand." She added thoughtfully. "Do you want to come to dinner? You would be _my_ guest." Roxi said cheerfully. Amber looked at Crane and saw that his look clearly said that she was certainly not welcome.

"I'd love to come to dinner!" Amber said in the same happy tone. Crane sighed quietly, but Roxi heard it and narrowed her eyes.

"You are going to be polite. If you think that you're too big to be locked in a room, you're sorely mistaken." Roxi told him seriously. Amber tried not to grin.

"Fine. She will be transported in a straight jacket, though." Crane said in a defeated tone.

"She's riding in _my_ car. I won't have it any other way." Roxi looked at him stubbornly.

"Roxi, I really don't care anymore. But if she escapes while you are responsible for her, you will find that I still have a few tricks of my own. And make sure that the jacket doesn't lock!" And with that statement, Crane walked out quickly. Amber expected Roxi to untie her immediately, but instead, Roxi had her head tilted to her side, obviously listening intently for something. She grinned when she heard tires squeal pulling out of the parking lot a minute later.

"Oh, Mrs. Baxter wouldn't be pleased if she heard how he drove that car of his…" Roxi muttered as she untied Amber. "Well, _I_ don't think that you're 'emotionally unstable' but we must do as my little brother says; most of the time." Roxi said. "You know where they keep the straight jackets?"

"No." Amber replied. She was amazed at how much trust Roxi was putting in her. Crane would make sure that she was at least in handcuffs before he let her out of her room. The hall looked so promising, but Amber knew that she wouldn't get anywhere with the orderlies around. Not only that, but she would feel terrible if she got Roxi in trouble. The red-eyed woman seemed to be much nicer than Crane, who was apparently her brother. Amber watched as Roxi looked around until she found one of the white jackets, and put it on her quickly. "Uh-oh" Amber heard her mutter as there were three snaps in the back of her jacket.

"What?" Amber asked with apprehension.

"Nothing! Don't worry about it. Creepy…" Roxi said in a dark tone that had more than a hint of appreciation. "Would you try on the face mask too?"

"Sure." Amber held still as Roxi secured the face mask behind her head.

"Seriously, you look so _weird_. See!" Amber looked in the CD that Roxi took out of a case from her large pocket and she was shocked at how different she looked. The mask was white, and had small holes for the eyes and a wide cut for a mouth. There were metal bars secured in the fabric to ensure that Amber couldn't bite. She imagined that with the straight jacket, Roxi's assessment of her total appearance was correct. "Alright, my car's this way." Roxi said while walking out. Amber walked quickly behind her, looking around at the cells. Some of the occupants were staring at her with a vacant look.

"Always stay in the center of the hallways; even in minimum security." Roxi warned her when she trailed to one side of the hall.

"I didn't think that they could reach out of their cells." Amber said, hastily moving to the middle of the hallway.

"Usually they can't, but some have gotten so thin from being force fed, they can reach through their food slots." Roxi replied coolly. Amber shuddered at the thought and hurried into the elevator behind Roxi. Once they reached the first floor, Roxi ignored the receptionist's squawk when she saw Amber, and walked out.


	6. Dinner at the Crane Manor

Jonathan paced the halls in his manor. He didn't like the fact that Roxi stopped by to visit without so much as a phone call to give him a little warning, and now she had invited Amber to dinner with her. Jonathan didn't mind Amber; she seemed like she could be quite likeable in other circumstances, but now there was such a high chance of her escaping under Roxi's eye that he couldn't help but feel extremely nervous.

He looked towards the door when he heard it open. Roxi stepped in, with Amber following her. He looked curiously at the face mask that Amber was wearing, and then back to Roxi. "It was not required that she wear that." He said simply. Roxi shrugged at him. Amber was scowling profusely at him, but he knew that she couldn't speak with it on. "Amber will need different clothes for dinner tonight. She looks to be around your size; do you have anything _normal_ she might wear?" He asked Roxi as he watched her try and take off Amber's mask with no success.

"Yeah, uh, somewhere…" Roxi muttered as she walked back out to her car.

"Do you want that mask removed?" Jonathan asked her as she glared further at him. He watched her carefully as she looked down and tensed slightly. He could tell that she considered having him help her with anything to be a serious blow to her pride. It was obvious that Roxi couldn't remember the knots that she had made to tie the mask, so it would be necessary if Amber was to eat anything tonight. She sighed finally and turned around.

Jonathan was cautious when he walked over. He wasn't sure if Amber had any tricks in mind, and he really didn't feel like being kicked. But she stayed perfectly still as he slowly untied one of the knots in her mask. He played absentmindedly with a small lock of her red-brown hair, only needing one hand to untie the knot. Roxi hadn't gotten much cleverer since they were children Jonathan noted; the knots that she had tied the mask with were the same that she had used to tie him up when she was annoyed with him. Once he was finished, he removed the mask carefully, keeping his hands well out of biting range.

"Better?" He asked her as he tossed the mask casually onto a small table. She looked around, then back at him.

"No." Amber said. When he met her bright hazel eyes, he saw a strong anger there that buried a hint of nervousness. Jonathan smiled and turned to watch Roxi come back to the house carrying a heavy suitcase. Roxi looked at him carefully.

"Where can I put this?" She asked him.

"In the room that you wish to sleep in. I need to go check on dinner. You said that you're allergic to peanuts Amber?" Jonathan asked her briskly. He was happy to have a chance to leave Amber in Roxi's care for the moment. There was something about Amber that made him feel like what he did to her was wrong. He wondered why Amber could bring feelings of guilt. Amber nodded at him in answer to his question, and Jonathan walked out of the room quickly.

Amber watched Crane with dislike as he walked out of the room. She didn't like the feeling of his hands playing with her hair, and felt like she needed to wash herself clean of his touch. "Sooo, what do you wanna wear?" Roxi asked her. "I don't think that he's going to make us seriously dress up, since none of the snooty people are here." Amber didn't answer her question as she followed Roxi up the long set of stairs. It was difficult to concentrate on keeping her balance with the straight jacket. On top of her balance issues, Amber was watching the oil paintings that adorned the walls with interest. She didn't recognize any of the works, but Amber had never been very interested in studying famous artists. The paintings varied from some that were old, to modern works of art that Amber found a hard time appreciating.

They reached a large door and Roxi opened it to reveal a large room that was decorated with different shades of blue. There was a rug that covered a beautiful light hardwood floor that had large blue spots on it. A few exotic looking plants were placed on an old-fashioned wardrobe. Off to the side of the room, a large blue fluffy bed was placed so that it was noticeable, but not overly so. "Jonathan redecorated the _entire_ house. This used to be my room. It was completely black, red and white. And now would you just look at this! Horrible." Roxi said with distaste as she picked up a cerulean blue pillow off of the bed by a corner and threw it away from her. Amber thought that the room was quite beautiful, but didn't comment. "You never answered me; what do you want to wear?" Roxi asked her.

"I dunno. A tee-shirt and just some regular pants… Do you think that you could take this off of me?" Amber asked her as she shifted in the jacket.

"Umm, you're not really going to like this bit very much." Roxi told her. Amber felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"What?"

"Well, only Jonathan and his head orderly have the keys to this lock. And this one. And this one." Roxi told her, poking her in the back to show her where the three locks were. Two were on each side of her back, but the last one was on her lower back. "Jonathan won't let me touch the keys anymore. Last time I made copies and gave them to some of his patients." Amber groaned.

"Roxi…"

"Sorry. If I'd known before I wouldn't have put you in it." Roxi said apologetically. "Well, might as well get this over sooner than later; I'm hungry! _JONATHAN_!" Roxi screeched the last word at the top of her lungs. A few moments later Amber heard someone running up the stairs.

"What is wrong with you!" Crane asked her loudly. "I was all the way in my room, and I heard you! Is there some kind of emergency?" Amber was pleased to see his flawless pale skin was flushed and he was breathing a little heavily. Crane saw her amusement and glared at her.

"Would you stop giving that _nasty_ look to people? What kind of manners you were raised to have while I was gone? You'll be nice tonight, or I'll put something horrible in your bed!" Roxi said in an offended tone. Crane rolled his eyes.

"What do you need?" Crane sounded tired.

"Well, you know I love you, right?" Roxi said cheerfully, grinning to show sharpened teeth. Crane didn't seem very amused with her.

"You locked it." He said.

"Yeah. I need your key."

"Roxi, you are not trusted anymore with any of my keys due to a certain _incident_." Crane said, glaring at her.

"Just this once! You can watch me the whole time so that I don't steal the key!" Roxi pleaded hopefully.

"Due to special circumstances, I will allow it this time. It will not happen again, though." Crane took a small key out of his pocket and handed it to Roxi, watching her the whole time as she unlocked the three locks quickly. Roxi tossed it back to Crane lightly.

"Is dinner almost ready?" Amber asked Crane quietly. He seemed to be surprised that she was speaking to him, in a civil tone none the less.

"Yes, the maid is serving it now. You should hurry and dress before the food gets cold." Crane said as she shrugged off the straight jacket. Roxi frowned at him as he disappeared out the door again.

"I think he likes you." Roxi said thoughtfully as she started to dig around in her suitcase, pulling pairs of pants and shirts out. Amber looked at Roxi, horrified. When Roxi saw her look, she laughed.

"Not in that way. I mean that he probably respects you. It's interesting." Amber felt relieved when Roxi said this.

"Why would he try and kill me, then lock me up if he _respected_ me? It doesn't make sense." Amber replied slowly as she selected a black top and faded blue jeans out of the pile that Roxi had pulled out.

"Who knows? Jonathan's strange like that. Probably he didn't know you before, but now, despite his best efforts, he's come to like you a little. If he wanted to kill you _really_ he would have done it in the asylum and played it off as a suicide." Roxi said as she shut her suitcase. "Maybe you'll get to know him too. Once you get past his outside, he's decent." She said quietly as she walked out the door.

Amber was taken aback by that statement. As she pulled on the shirt, she was amazed that anyone could possibly think that Jonathan Crane was tolerable; but then again, this was his older sister speaking. Amber frowned as she walked out of the room, remembering as well that Crane hadn't followed up on all of his promises from the ID card incident. He hadn't given her music; drawing supplies, books, or most importantly, move her into the minimum security ward.

"You look hot." Roxi said when she walked out of the room wearing the new clothes. "I'll make sure that you get your old clothes back after dinner. I'll have one of the laundry people wash them for you."

Remembering what Anna had told her in the cell, Amber spoke suddenly. "You're _sure_ I'll get them back?" She asked Roxi.

"Of course! Why wouldn't you?"

"No reason I guess…" Amber muttered. Roxi grinned at the long banister along the stairwell.

"Dare I?" Amber returned her grin and nodded. Roxi sat on the railing carefully, looking down at the bottom to make sure that no one was there. Screeching with delight, Roxi slid down the banister and landed gracefully at the bottom. "You try!" She yelled up to Amber.

Amber looked at the railing with doubt, then back down at Roxi. "C'mon Amber! It's not that hard!" Roxi said encouragingly from the first floor. Amber sighed, and wished that she hadn't gone along with Roxi's idea. Slowly, she climbed up on it cautiously and grabbed it suddenly when she felt herself starting to fall off. After she had steadied herself, Amber took a deep breath and slid down the banister. Screaming in the same fashion as Roxi, Amber flew down the railing quickly. When she reached the bottom, she found that she didn't have Roxi's grace in landing, and fell awkwardly on her back. Laughing, she accepted Roxi's hand up.

Amber tensed when she saw Crane turn to walk into what she assumed was the dining room. "Stop being such a killjoy, Jonathan! You know it's funny!" Roxi shouted to his retreating back. The only answer that she had was his expensive shoes clicking as he walked into another room. "Honestly! Did he get fed any strange meds? Or maybe it's a lack of them that's making him this way…" Roxi muttered as she led the way into a richly furnished dining room. A dark wood table was laden with a variety of foods. Underneath the table, there was pristinely white carpet that looked like it would scream in agony if anyone spilled.

Crane watched her from the head of the table as she walked into the room, trying to hide her admiration for the décor in it. Roxi skipped over happily to sit on her brother's right side, and Amber sat down slowly to his left. It made her extremely uncomfortable to be sitting so close to him. She looked down at the china plate, and noticed that there were two kinds of forks, a spoon, and a large steak knife. Amber eyed the steak knife with surprise, and noted that it was very sharp. She looked up curiously at Crane, who was watching her with interest. He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her knife, then back at her. Roxi was busy serving herself food from the many dishes on the table, and drinking the wine quickly.

"Going to stab me with that?" He asked her in a tone that was barely audible. He met her eyes. Amber glanced over at Roxi again and saw that she didn't hear what Crane had said.

"Maybe." She replied in the same quiet tone, meeting his eyes again. He smiled faintly, as though almost daring her to threaten him with the knife.

"Salad?" He said in a slightly louder tone.

"'It's really good! I think you'd like it." Roxi said cheerfully while cutting a large piece of steak and shoving it ungracefully into her mouth. Crane watched Roxi with a smile. "You make it?" Roxi asked him when she swallowed her steak. He nodded and watched Amber carefully put some on her plate. Amber was slightly suspicious of the food that Crane had prepared, but she knew that he wouldn't poison his own sister, who was happily eating the salad.

"So Roxi, where have you been lately? You haven't been home for a while." Crane asked his sister, who was finishing her glass of wine. A maid walked over silently and refilled it.

"Oh, I got back from Brazil a few weeks ago. I've been hanging in New York for a while.

"Where were you living in New York?" Amber heard a dangerous tone in Crane's voice. Amber glanced between Crane and Roxi and saw that Roxi didn't notice the tone, or that he was gripping his fork with a considerable amount of force. The maid that had been standing in the corner of the room walked out.

"Well, umm, I stayed with some chick for the first week that I was talking to on the plane, and then I met Flore, and I stayed with him until I came here."

"And who is Flore?"

"Oh he's _so_ cool! He wants to get into fashion design!" Roxi said with admiration. She took a long drink from her glass.

"Does _Flore_ have a last name?"

"I dunno." Roxi drained the second glass and looked around the large room expectantly for the maid to refill the glass. Amber had finished the salad and watched Crane. He still had the death grip on his fork, and she could tell that he didn't approve of Roxi's behavior. Roxi got up suddenly and walked into an adjacent room, returning with a bottle of clear liquid. She poured a large amount of it in her glass and set the bottle roughly down on the table.

"Roxanna, I think that you need to see something in the kitchen." Crane said as he set the fork down carefully on the table.

"But I was just in there, Jonathan…" Roxi started to say.

"No, you _definitely_ need to go to the kitchen." He insisted as he got up swiftly. She frowned at him, and got up slowly and walked into the room that she had exited a moment ago.

Amber felt uncomfortable in her chair, and even more so when she heard Roxi's raised voice emanating from the open door. She tried not to listen to the argument as she walked out of the room. She walked out into the entryway, and looked longingly as the large doors. She hurried over and tried the doorknob, without success. She looked up and saw that there were two locks that were far out of her reach. Amber groaned loudly and glared at the locks, trying to will them to unlock.

"Miss; do these belong to you?" a timid voice asked. Amber turned around in surprise and saw a small woman dressed in a simple black dress holding out her clothes.

"Yes, thanks. Do you have anywhere that I could change?" Amber asked her while accepting the clothes gratefully. The woman jumped as a loud crack of thunder sounded from outside, and rain started to hammer the large Victorian window.

"Certainly. This way please." The woman led her to a small bathroom, where she changed into her old clothes quickly. When she finished, Amber poked her head out of the door, hoping that the maid was still there. Seeing that she was no where to be found in the room, Amber placed Roxi's folded clothes carefully on a table next to a delicate flower arrangement and walked back to the entryway. She flinched when she heard a door slam, and Crane walked out of the dining room, showing no emotion as usual.

"I'll be taking you back to the asylum." He said simply as he opened a closet next to a small table and took out a long black umbrella. Crane used the handle to unlock the two locks on the door and pressed a button on the handle that caused the umbrella to open. "Have you ever heard of someone called Flore?" He asked her as they walked out to the blue Porsche. He held the umbrella to keep the rain from hitting her.

"No." She replied, getting in the passenger seat of the car. Crane started up the car.

"I am sorry that you had to see that." He told her as he drove out of the driveway. Amber stared out the window at the large wrought iron gates and didn't reply. After they were nearly halfway to the building, Amber spoke again.

"When do you think that I'll be able to leave?" She asked him. She looked over at him.

"When you give up this obsession with writing your article." He replied simply.

"It's my job though; Mark won't give me another assignment until I finish this one."

"That really is not my problem." He told her coldly. She could tell that it wouldn't be wise to pursue this topic when he was still angry about Roxi, and they sat in an uncomfortable silence for the rest of the ride. When they reached the asylum, Crane got out of the car, ignoring the downpour and walked up to the entrance. She stood by the car and watched him unlock the doors, enjoying the feeling of the rain on her skin. Once he had unlocked the door, he seemed to realize that she was not next to him. He looked back at her expectantly.

"You forgot my straight jacket." She said to him loudly through the rain and grinned.


	7. Of Elevators and Scarecrows

Crane seemed to be about to say something, but Amber ran around the car and across the parking lot. She heard splashes behind her, and knew that Crane was pursuing her. She reached the end of the lot, and ran into the road without looking. She didn't see the oncoming truck, and ran out in front of it.

Just before Amber ran out into the middle of the road, Jonathan reached her. He lunged to grab her arm, and pulled her out of the path of the oncoming truck. The truck rushed past and Amber gasped. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it and looked at him with a mixture of amazement, surprise, and fear. He kept his grip on her arm and half walked, half dragged her back to the entrance. Once they were under the large stone awning, he glared at her. "Do not try that again." He said in a deadly quiet tone. Amber sobbed and looked down. He felt a twinge of pity and guilt, but tightened the grip on her arm. She looked up at him with fear, and a tear dripped slowly down her cheek, mingling with the raindrops on her face.

Jonathan nearly hated himself when he saw the tear. He felt so sorry for her, and almost wished that he hadn't stopped her from writing her article. But yet he still persisted with his torment. "Do you understand me Amber?" She nodded quickly and sobbed again. "Come on." He loosened his grip, and tugged at her arm gently. More tears fell from the hazel eyes and Jonathan bit his lip. "Amber…"

"Don't Crane." She said. Her eyes hard and without emotion when she met his. "I just want to go to sleep." He sighed and looked down as he led her to her cell. He knew that she had learned her trick of hiding emotions and behaving coldly from him.

"I'll have you moved to a minimum security cell tomorrow. Do you want your paints, or anything else?" He asked her as they stepped into the elevator.

"My paints and some books." She said softly. He felt another, stronger pang in his stomach.

"Any particular ones—" He started to ask her. She cut him off.

"Stop. I don't want your pity, or you to feel _sorry_ for what you've done. You have had too much time for that already. If you really want to make up for doing this then let me _out_ _now_. I won't publish my article, and I won't say a word about what you've done. Just let me out" She looked at him with more than a hint of desperation as the elevator reached the seventh floor

"I'll make arrangements for it in morning." Jonathan found that he couldn't look at her when he said this, as he knew that

"Promise me."

They looked up at a crack of thunder, and the elevator stopped abruptly.

"What was that?" She asked him, forgetting the previous topic of discussion at the moment. He looked irritated and looked over at her with slight anxiousness.

"Well, I believe that the power has just gone out in the building." He replied, watching for her reaction. She glared at the elevator, and looked around. After a few moments, she spoke.

"So what now?" She asked. Jonathan looked over at her blankly.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Well you're always acting like such a know-it-all…" She muttered at him. Jonathan noticed that she was following the usual pattern for people who couldn't deal with their emotions and turning all of them into anger.

"What was that? You can stay on that half of the elevator for the time being if you want to call me names." He said, indicating the side that she was on.

"That is _so_ immature. What are you? Eleven?" She scoffed at him. "So where exactly is the _boundary_ of the elevator, hmm? At the buttons?" She indicated the floor selection buttons placed in the center of the elevator's back wall.

"Yes." He refused to acknowledge that she was mocking him. She rolled her eyes.

"So we're stuck in here then? This really sucks." She said in a bored tone. Amber walked over and pressed the buttons on the wall.

"Not that one!" Jonathan said suddenly when her hand hovered over a large white button. She narrowed her eyes and pressed the button considerably harder than she had the others. The lights went out in the elevator.

"What did that one do?"

"_That_ is the emergency battery cutoff. Now we won't be able to get light for another hour." He replied grimly.

"Well why didn't you tell me before?"

"Would you have listened?"

Amber knew that Crane had made a decent point; she wouldn't have listened to him before pressing the button. And now she was stuck in a room with one of her worst enemies in the dark. Scowling at the slightly darker spot of the elevator that she assumed was the space that Crane occupied, and stalked around the small floor space for a few minutes. Crane watched her with boredom until she sank down in one of the corners.

"Can we suffocate in here?" Amber asked him, sitting up.

"I'm not sure." He replied calmly. He could tell that the thought of suffocating scared Amber greatly. He was not so afraid; he knew that there was really no chance of that happening. But it would be interesting to watch her think that she could. "Are you scared of dying, Amber?"

"Aren't you!" He could hear the nervousness in her voice.

"Not really."

"I knew the nut was running the nut house." She said. He glared at her profusely and didn't reply. Amber took a small bouncing ball out of her pocket and watched as it glowed a faint green light. She always had it with her, as she was often stuck in waiting rooms when she was assigned to interview some movie star for the gossip column.

"What is that?" Crane asked with curiosity he failed to hide.

"Nothing." She replied lazily. "And you see I can't show you because then I would have to cross over the _line._"

"You could come over for a bit…"

"I don't really want to." Amber smiled when she felt Crane's frustration. He sighed and she knew that he was watching the ball. Grinning, she decided to find out how many times it would ricochet off the walls before she or Crane caught it. He watched her as she raised the glowing ball up, unaware of her game. Quickly she threw the ball against a wall on what Crane had claimed as his side of the elevator.

She screamed as it flew back at her, and ducked as it hit the wall behind her. Amber laughed as it flew at Crane. He threw himself to the floor to avoid being hit with the rubber ball. It then bounced of this wall and hit the ceiling, where it finally lost enough momentum for him to catch it. Amber laughed as he examined the small glowing object carefully. There was just enough light put off by the green glow for her to see him glaring at her. He looked coldly at her, and then smiled as he put it in his pocket.

"Hey! That's not fair!" She said in a tone that a six-year-old would use when a mother takes away their cookie.

"When have I ever been fair?" He asked her.

"Good point." She scowled into the black darkness. She wanted her ball back, but certainly wasn't going to beg him for it. She sat back against the wall and tried to think of a way out of the elevator. There seemed to be no small window at the top, and she could hear no noises that meant someone was coming to get them. _Well, no one knows that we are in here…_ she thought with dread. She recalled her fears of suffocation again as she sat in the dark, and watched Crane carefully. She came to the conclusion that he would be franticly trying to reach someone on his cell phone if there really was a threat of suffocating. Her thoughts were further confirmed when she heard a small sigh of air somewhere on an upper part of the wall. That definitely meant that there was an air vent somewhere in the elevator. "So… What's Roxi like? And why am I stuck in here with you right now instead of your sister; couldn't she have taken me here instead?"

"Roxanna was not in a proper state of mind tonight." Crane said carefully.

"Something pills will take care of? Has she got a mental problem?"

"No. I would rather not speak of this right now."

"Why? Oh, I get it; she was drunk, right?" Crane remained silent when Amber said this. "She does it often? You're the psychiatrist, can't you fix it."

"Do you think that I haven't tried? Ever since she started, I've been trying and trying…" He said quietly. "Now, I do not wish to talk about this." An uncomfortable silence followed his cold words for about twenty minutes. Amber looked around into the darkness. She couldn't see Crane watching her.

"You know, I've had some experience with this sort of thing." Amber said quietly, breaking the silence. She knew now that Crane was watching her.

"Really? Let's talk about this then, Amber." Crane said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Don't start that now." She said to him venomously. "I'm only trying to offer you some support."

"Start what?" He asked her innocently.

"You know damn well what. Mocking me. You've done it enough so far; stop it." She said, glaring at the shifting piece of darkness in front of her. She felt a twinge of fear when she saw him stand up, but took a deep breath and ignored it when he didn't move further.

"I am not mocking you, Amber. Please, let's talk about this." He said in his physiatrist's tone.

"No. I'm done talking with you for now." She said stubbornly. The lights flickered once, and she could see that his face was devoid of all emotion, but his eyes held the customary coldness. "Let's talk about you." She said, smiling in the cold fashion that she learned from him.

"Amber." _He's trying to get me to calm down and shut up._ Amber thought with irritation. "Come now, you already know all about me. You've been researching me tirelessly for the past two weeks before your _incident_."

"And yet I still kept getting the same boring results. You're 26, born in Gotham City, and you went to Gotham University and have a duel major in culinary arts and psychology." Amber ignored his comment about her incident.

"Well, that's about all you _could_ find out about me." Crane said carefully. She detected the slightest hint of worry in his voice.

"I disagree. I seem to be missing a part of the story, Dr. Crane. What happened in Arkham Asylum?"

"I was administrator of it for five years before the Scarecrow released most of my patients into the streets. At this point I decided that it wasn't worth the effort of running it anymore and started new here in New York City." He explained.

"So how are you in touch with the League of Shadows?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you are speaking of." He smiled into the dark.

"Playing stupid really doesn't suit you Crane. I bet you're just some lackey and you're ashamed of it."

"Far from a lackey, Ms. Larks." He smirked, knowing that he had just betrayed that he was involved with the League, and not caring.

"Finally! And don't call me that. So if you were so important, what did you do?"

"I believe that is all that I have to say on the topic. Aren't you getting tired yet?" Crane said in a weary tone. As though on cue, the lights flickered again and then stayed on. The elevator started to move again. Amber smiled vaguely at the light bulb, and stepped out gladly when it reached her floor. Crane stepped out behind her, and she paused to allow him to pass her. She knew for certain now that he was capable of doing some really nasty things, and didn't trust him at her back. He obviously ignored her, and led the way to her room.

When they reached the room, Dr. Crane unlocked the door for her and held it open for her. She didn't go inside and he looked at her with suspicion. "I want my glow ball back." Amber said. He smiled coldly at her.

"Why should I give you it?"

"Because it's mine."

"No. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. We can discuss your ball in the morning." He said simply. She smirked at him.

"You could sleep in my bed tonight… I'm sure there's room for both of us if we get _really_ close." She was pleased to see a faint colouring spread across his pale cheeks.

"Absolutely not. Good night Amber." He said while narrowing his eyes at her.

"You know Dr. Crane, I'm kinda thirsty." She said while walking in her cell.

"I'll inform the orderly on duty to get you something to drink."

"Why didn't he come get us out of that elevator!" Amber was shocked to hear that someone sane who was in the building hadn't come to get them when they were stuck.

"How was he supposed to know we were in the elevator at the time?"

"Oh yeah. Getting back to the water." She was smiling sweetly at him. "I like you the best, Dr. Crane! I'm scared of the orderly!" She looked at him with wide eyes. He glared at her.

"I don't care." He looked at her stubbornly. She didn't lose her smile as she looked at him.

"I'll throw a fit." She threatened.

"And I'll have you locked up in that room again." He said.

"Hmm. Do you really think that you can do that before I smash your glasses and rip some buttons off your nice white shirt?" He sighed and looked at her.

"Fine. I need a walk to clear my head anyway." He said simply.

"Did I give you ideas when I offered my bed? For some reason, I'm not very sorry." She smiled as he turned on his heel to hide another blush and slammed the door in his face. Surprising that someone who had to know at least something about what was happening to Gotham City would still blush at her suggestive comments. She knew that she could play this new game she had discovered with him now. Amber wondered slightly why her statements, even when they obviously didn't have any substance to them, would bother him so much.

Amber was interrupted in her thoughts by her door opening and a glass being held out to her. She looked up at Crane thoughtfully, and accepted the plastic cup of water. "Are you going to give me back that ball?"

"No." He said and frowned at the look on her face. She suddenly lifted the cup and before he had a chance to shield his face or turn away, threw it in his face. He wiped it out of his face with his jacket's sleeve, and turned to face her. She was trying not to laugh at the sight of his dark brown hair plastered to his face and falling into his eyes from the water. It was dripping into his face and she couldn't hold back a smile.

Jonathan glared at Amber when he saw the smile. He felt so angry at her that words couldn't describe it. He just wanted to strangle her, right in that spot where she stood. He watched as she walked behind the small wall that shielded her bathroom area from view and returned with the small towel that was given to her to dry her hands with. She held it out to him, still smiling.

_So why don't you then?_ An all too familiar voice told him. It was the same voice that had haunted him ever since his parents had disappeared so long ago: Scarecrow.


	8. Amber's Past

Jonathan thought back to that night, and remembered Mrs. Baxter, the family cook, sobbing. She had told him and his sister as gently as she could the news that his parents had come up missing during their trip to Paris for their anniversary. Roxi and Jonathan had both taken the news quite differently. Roxi had gone into the Narrows with her current boyfriend and got into drugs. Jonathan had thrown himself into his work, cooking and studying until late into the night.

Since Roxi wasn't around any longer, Mrs. Baxter had concentrated even harder on becoming Jonathan's mother figure. She encouraged him to pursue the culinary arts when he was younger, but began to become worried about him when he was up so late. Mrs. Baxter eventually took him to a physiatrist, who diagnosed him with clinical depression. After they got a similar second opinion, Jonathan had diagnosed himself.

He had heard the voice, but carry on it had only been muttering at the corners of his mind. It got louder in the night, and sometimes he could even tell what it was saying. Jonathan knew that the things it was telling him to do were horrible and awful, so he cast it away from him. But for some reason, it always came back, screaming at him sometimes. He eventually researched his condition, and forged a prescription for a medication that he thought would solve his problem.

The Scarecrow as he started to call it would only whisper when he took his medicine, and he could easily ignore that whispering. He stopped taking the medicine when he was out of college, believing that Scarecrow was dead. Because of this lack of medication, Scarecrow had come back to life, and now was speaking to him again.

_Come on Crane! How can you possibly have any fondness for her after all the things she's done? Let's just kill her now and make things easier for us._ Scarecrow said convincingly in his head. Jonathan was tempted to do just that, but he stopped. Scarecrow's ideas were rarely good ones.

_No._ He said to the voice sternly. Jonathan looked up at Amber and saw that she was watching him carefully, smile gone from her face. He knew that look that she was giving him, it was the look that everyone had given him when they were starting to believe that he was truly insane. He took the towel and dried his face, staring at the floor.

_Why not?_ Scarecrow asked him. _She's going to get out eventually. I can feel it_, _you're starting to like her. Remember what happened with the other girls? They found out about your medicine and left. Didn't even say good-bye. Oh_, _I'm _so_ sorry Jonathan. Does that bring back bad memories? She'll do the same thing_, _only she will destroy this life that we've built here as well._

_That _I've_ built here._ Jonathan said strongly to Scarecrow.

_Whatever. Just kill her now and be done with it._

_No._ Jonathan said finally, looking at Amber's hazel eyes.

_Don't come crying to me when she ruins everything_, _Jonathan._ Scarecrow said in his mind, and left. Jonathan took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, dropping the towel. He was so relieved that Scarecrow was gone. He knew what the voice was capable of sometimes, especially in cases like these where he hadn't taken his medicine for a while.

He felt a hand touch him gently, and looked up to see Amber's face. She looked truly worried about him as she brushed some spare drops of water off of his shoulder. Jonathan knew that he couldn't be around her anymore. He convinced himself while staring into her hazel eyes that she could give up this whole business of writing her article.

"Crane?" She asked gently. "I didn't mean for you to get mad. I was only joking around." Amber bit her bottom lip and he frowned. "Dr. Crane? Are you alright?"

"Of course, Amber. I'm just tired and I think that it would do you well to have some quiet time alone in your room." Jonathan sighed and walked out quickly.

Amber watched Dr. Crane walk out with a slightly surprised expression. After a few moments, she watched the Porsche pull out of the asylum, and remembered the look on his face. He seemed to be having some kind of inner battle with himself, and Amber was curious to know what exactly was going on in his head at that moment.

She knew that Crane wouldn't give her the ball back even if she begged, and so she decided to take a little revenge on him. Amber hoped that it would irritate him, but from what she could tell about him, he wouldn't let her get to him no matter what she did. She never thought that it would cause this kind of reaction, and to be honest, it fascinated her that there was this great of an effect on him. After pacing around her room for some time thinking about how curious she was to know about Dr. Crane's true life, not just what she gathered from the web pages she visited, she laid down on her cot and went to sleep.

Jonathan sat up in his home for a long time thinking about the things that Scarecrow had said. He resolved that he would have to fill his prescription again to banish the voice, but there was a slight problem with that. In New York, he was recognized by some as being rich and powerful. Some magazine had once written him up as being something called an eligible bachelor in New York. That had amused him at the time, but once he thought about it further, it upset him. It had drawn more attention to him, and to his personal life; something that definitely couldn't happen.

Yes, he could always kill Amber. There wouldn't be many questions asked if he just slipped a fatal dose of some drug or another into her food one night, but that was what annoyed him the most. He had come to see Amber as an equal rival worthy of playing his mind games on. Very rarely did he find someone who could pose a serious challenge to him. He smirked arrogantly to himself while he loosened his tie and started to take off his shirt. Obviously the woman wasn't an intellectual equal, but she had strength of mind and quite a bit of it from what he could tell. Of course, there was always the worry of her colleges coming to check on her again, but Jonathan was reasonably sure that he had handled that well, slipping the medication into Amber's food to make her hallucinate. He was still fascinated that she had managed to create an entire person; he came to the conclusion that she must have developed a very active imagination as a child.

But he slowly recalled his thoughts back to the Scarecrow. He could feel it sleeping inside his head now, waiting for another opportunity to come back to life. Jonathan remembered with slight anxiety what had happened that fateful night in Gotham City. Scarecrow had completely taken control, Jonathan's mind being weak from the recent loss of his surrogate mother, Mrs. Baxter. The voice had only done it a few time in the past, creating the vital chain of events that eventually led to Gotham's near ruin. He wondered if the Batman would still be searching for him, and doubted it. When his pretty little district attorney had shot him that night, he was reasonably sure that Batman would believe him dead.

Jonathan thought about the medicine he would need to subdue the Scarecrow. He would definitely have to get the prescription tomorrow. He couldn't wait any longer for it. Jonathan sighed and knew that Roxi would be so hung-over in the morning that she wouldn't even get out of bed, let alone drive down to the pharmacy and pick the pills up. He heard her stumbling around on the level beneath him, obviously drunk, and pulled back the covers of his neatly made bed. He would have to deal with that in the morning.

Amber groaned as a loud pounding on her door awoke her. She knew from the noise that it definitely wasn't Crane, as he always preferred to knock just loud enough for her to hear and not beat on the door. It was probably an orderly. She didn't bother to get up or turn her head to see if her guess was correct, she simply cast her eyes in the general direction of the door and made note of a white uniform. _Definitely an orderly then_, Amber thought. _They're here kind of early for my session today._ She slowly sat up from her bed while ignoring the orderly's impatient foot tapping. When she looked at him, she smiled lazily at his narrowed eyes. "I'm hungry." She stated as she got off the cot. "When's breakfast?" The orderly didn't answer her as she followed him, but then again, she didn't really expect an answer. She yawned as she watched the sides of the halls. Most of the patents here were men, and some looked even competent as they watched her. She thought about what an awful life it would be to have to stay here, confined by four white walls your entire life. Then she wondered if that would happen to her now, and felt that familiar pang of fear at the topic. _No use destroying what confidence you have before a chat with Crane_ Amber thought to herself, and pushed the subject from her mind. As Roxi said, Crane somehow found it in himself to respect her; maybe that could eventually lead to her freedom. But the doubt was still lurking at the corners of her mind, and she stared at the floor the rest of the way to Crane's office.

"Amber. How are we feeling today?" He asked her when she came in. The orderly walked out of the room quickly when Crane nodded at him, as usual. She looked at him blankly while thinking back to what Anna's plot had been. There would be no way to escape him even if she did get out of the asylum. _Well_, _it couldn't hurt to try it_, _right?_ Amber thought to herself hopefully. _Nothing to lose--_

_Except your life_, _and sanity; and then think about if he gets in touch with that Scarecrow._ The dry and sarcastic part of her mind finished for her. She sighed and threw the plot from her mind. Anna had wanted her to shove past Crane when he came to her room to visit her sometime, and then when she walked out, pretend like she was simply visiting a patient. But there were so many holes in this, just to start, how on earth could she shove past someone like Dr. Crane? Sure, he was slender and willowy enough, but as she flitted her eyes across his upper body, she could tell that there would be strength in his lean limbs. Amber decided that she wasn't going to answer his question, instead choosing to flop herself down on the couch. It was almost comfortable, much more so than the small cot that was given to her to sleep on. She smiled sleepily as she knocked the fluffy pillows off it and onto the floor. After a moment, she picked one back up and curled herself around it. Dr. Crane watched this with his usual assessing air that he always had when he was around her.

"Don't you feel like talking to me today?" He pretended to sound hurt, and Amber looked up at him without expression.

"I want those books Crane, and music. Besides, I was rather enjoying that 'quiet time' that you said that I would be having in my cell. It's still early."

"Well, Amber. How would you like to have some time out of your room? Go out and see New York for a bit?" He asked her, trying to hide the hope that was in his voice. He would need her to agree to this so that she wouldn't act too suspiciously in the pharmacy. She looked at him warily; obviously she picked up on the eagerness in his voice. She could tell that Crane was trying his best to look indifferent but she knew enough about him from the short time that she had actually known him that there was definitely something he wanted, and badly at that if he was coming to her for it. She wondered what it could possibly be if he was so obvious with his request. _Not that it will stay a request for long_ Amber thought as she studied Crane's face. He had a vague smile on his lips that could easily be mistaken as his usual appearance, but Amber knew better.

"So, what do you want?" Amber asked him. She could see that unfamiliar glimmer in those blue eyes brighten with obvious hopefulness and he cleared his throat.

"I was just curious if you would be interested in getting out of the asylum for a bit. I need some medication picked up at a pharmacy." He said quickly. She closed her eyes and was careful to keep her face blank as she considered this. While she was thinking though, she couldn't resist poking a little fun at him.

"What Crane, falling off the deep end? Can't say I blame you, running this place I think that I'd go crazy too." He looked at her coldly and Amber wondered slightly why he was taking her comment so seriously.

"No, I would be remembered if I went in, and I would constantly be getting calls from other pharmacies wondering why I am not buying medicine from them instead. I need you to go in and purchase it for me." He said. "And if you try anything while you are in there, I will have you killed. If you don't think that I will, I beg you to please try something." Crane said seriously. She looked at him.

"I suppose I could do you this one favor, but I trust that those things you mentioned won't happen to me while I am in, as you say, in _your_ care." She told him quietly. He looked at her thoughtfully. This was all becoming rather like one large game for her. Amber knew that there was little chance of her escaping the asylum for a long time, at the very least she would have to wait until the uproar in Gotham had died down some. But now that she had consigned herself to that realization, she would need something to amuse herself while she was in here. So if Crane could play his head games with her, she figured that she would play them with him as well and perhaps study him a bit while she was here. Perhaps it would give her a better idea of what part he played in Gotham and the League.

He decided that he wasn't going to reply to her last statement, instead moving on to another topic of discussion. "While we were in the elevator, you said that you had some experience with Roxi's kind of condition. I would like to hear more about that." Crane said carefully. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh so _now_ you want to know? I don't feel like talking about it now." Amber said lazily, smiling at his obvious annoyance with her. But the subject did bring back some memories that she had tried so hard not to think about from that night. She wondered why on earth Dr. Crane would save her life when it would be so much more convenient for him to just let her die there. He could even explain away the accident if he invented a reason for her to be outside with him in the pouring rain and the time, which Amber knew he was quite capable of doing. But why would he save her life after trying to kill her? It just didn't make any sense, and when she eyed Dr. Crane again, she figured that it was one of the few things in his life that didn't.

"Amber; please tell me about this." Crane's voice sounded like he was asking her for trust, and she looked into his eyes for a few moments considering. She knew that this probably wasn't the best place for her to look when she was trying to think about something, as she found their colour to be extremely distracting most of the time, but soon Amber was lost again in her thoughts.

She was fourteen again, and still living with her father. Her mother had left a few years earlier when she had grown bored with the whole family life thing. It had been three months since her father had started drinking. Amber recalled the huge argument that had ensued over her education and what she had wanted to become. Her father had wanted a prim and proper businesswoman, but business of any sort had always bored her, so she had hopes of becoming a reporter. The argument had started after her father's third beer, and a letter from the guidance counselor at her high school. Even though she was only a freshman, the counselor had taken a personal interest in her welfare. Amber suspected that the counselor had been pushed into her current profession by her own parents years ago, and sympathized with Amber's problem. She had typed a letter stating that Amber was unsuited to a business profession and that her father should send her to school for her dream of becoming a reporter. After much shouting by her father and tears shed by Amber, her father had thrown a beer bottle that smashed above her head. She decided that it would probably be better for the both of them if she left as her mother had, and went to live with her best friend Lexi. Amber lost all contact with her father after the incident, and hadn't talked to him since. Eventually, she moved to New York with Lexi to attend the university there, and got a job straight out of college at the _New York Observer_.

Amber realized that Dr. Crane was still waiting for his answer and saw that he was watching at her carefully. "Well are you going to tell me anything today?" He asked her. She sighed and looked up at the plain white ceiling.

"No Crane, not today. But you could talk about yourself." Amber replied quietly. He looked surprised.

"We are not here to talk about me. We are here to discuss you." He said while shuffling through papers on his desk.

"Really? And why is that Dr. Crane? I don't have any psychological problems, and if you are just interested in finding out about my personal life I think that you'll be disappointed. I'm actually a very boring person."

"And what makes you say that? I find you interesting."

"Hate to break it to you Crane, but yes, I am boring, and you are most likely boring as well." She said. He pretended to look offended.

"I am not boring."

"Well, I suppose you _are_ more interesting than me. You drive fancy cars, date models, and are involved in huge conspiracy plots. So I'll take that back then, you certainly aren't too boring." She said finally. He glared at her.

"I am not involved in any conspiracy plots and I recently ended the only relationship that I've had with a model." He replied haughtily. She laughed at him.

_So I heard_. She thought while remembering the argument that she listened to in the asylum. "Not _currently_ involved in any conspiracy plots. I know you had something to do with Gotham." He sighed.

"And you say that you don't have any problems. _Obviously_ you're paranoid." He smiled at her faintly. "We will just have to extend your stay here…"

Amber decided that she wasn't going to answer that; instead she rolled over on the couch and didn't face him while she curled herself tighter around the pillow. He eyed her slim frame on the couch for a moment, and then looked back down at his papers. He blinked twice and stared at them. To his great surprise, he had completely forgotten what he had been working on. Crane looked back up at Amber. He noticed that her shoulders that were usually tense starting to relax and that her breathing become more regular and slow. Smiling at her he looked back down at the papers and tried to get back to his regular work.


	9. A New Doctor

After an hour and a half, Crane glanced up at his clock. He had just finished all of his paperwork for the week finally, and was feeling quite pleased with himself. He watched Amber sleeping on the couch for a while. It was calming for him to have her in the room; it almost felt like she was beginning to trust him. _Maybe she is…_ he thought. He pushed that thought out of his mind though; how could she possibly trust him after he had tried to kill her. But maybe she would listen to Roxi when she said that he did that before he had gotten to know her. Crane was not certain how he felt about this. On one side of the matter, it would be very nice to possibly befriend her. It might even solve the problem of her publishing that article. But he was doubtful that she could like him at all when she was caged in the asylum. He wondered if he could kill her now, if things came to that; she was quite fun to play with. It would be a great risk having her fetch the medicine for him though, and he wondered if she would do something to endanger the life that he so carefully invented for himself here. Medicine from the asylum would be missed though, and there was no one else that he could trust besides Roxi and himself to get it.

Slowly he came to realize that this would be something that he would just have to take a chance on, no matter if he liked it or not, and got up from his office chair quietly. He walked over to the couch and touched her shoulder gently to wake her. She only groaned loudly at him and turned away from the back of the couch, thinking that it would be away from him. He tapped her again. She opened her eyes slowly and glared at him.

"I was sleeping. It's much more comfortable here than in that thing in my cell you call a bed." She told him, obviously irritated at having her nap interrupted. "I want to go back to sleep."

"You need to wake up if you want to get out of the asylum tonight." He told her while smiling faintly at her. She opened her eyes all the way and looked at him in a slightly amazed way.

"You're letting me out? Wow." She said. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course not." She frowned and looked up at him. A look of realization finally came across her face when she recalled the medicine and then disappointment.

"Oh yeah…"

"Well then, come on." He said finally and opened the door. She got up from the couch slowly with a sigh, and shuffled out the door.

"So what exactly am I buying here?" Amber asked Crane suspiciously as he parked the black Mercedes outside a pharmacy.

"Don't worry about it. Here, take this, and this." He said, handing her a note and some money. She raised her eyebrows at the amount that was given to her in cash, but examined the note instead. It was written on the same kind of prescription slip that her own doctor gave to her, and she tried to make out the writing on the paper.

"Is this some kind of sad excuse for handwriting?" She asked him, indicating the note. He rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration.

"Just go. Take the paper into the building and hand it to the pharmacist." He said slowly. She scowled at him.

"I _have_ filled a prescription before." She said pretentiously as she opened the door and walked into the building. She glared up at the bright halogen lights of the drugstore and sighed. Amber thought that Crane was blowing this whole deal out of proportion. After all, if it was just for one of the patients at the asylum, surely he could have just gone and gotten it himself? Amber smiled at the pharmacist and handed him the note. He didn't return the smile as he read the note and looked back up at her. Her smile faded as she saw the look that the pharmacist was giving her. It was full of suspicion, confusion, and just a little fear. He walked back to the shelves full of medicines and took out a bottle. Amber frowned and sat down in one of the uncomfortable waiting chairs that the drugstore had provided. _Why would he give me that kind of a look?_ Amber wondered as she stared at the wall opposite her. _I can't ask what the medication is for, that would just be way too suspicious and god knows what Crane will do to me if I do anything stupid in here… _She shuddered at that last thought.

"Excuse me, miss? Your prescription is waiting." The pharmacist said to her from the glass window. She got up and handed him the money necessary for the medicine and accepted it from him. It turned out to be exactly the correct amount of cash, and she walked out of the store.

Amber shivered slightly as the chill night wind whipped across her bare arms and face. The Mercedes unlocked and she got in the passenger's side of the car. Crane started to snatch the pills from Amber, but she was quicker and pulled them out of his reach. He looked at her warily.

"Amber…" He started to say warningly, but she stopped him with a cold look.

"You have some serious explaining to do. You should have seen the look that the guy gave me when I handed him the note! What is this for anyway?" Amber asked him while indicating the small orange bottle. He glared at her.

"It's none of your business! Give it here." He said quickly. When she still persisted in keeping it away from her he sighed in frustration. "Give it to me or I'll have you locked in solitary for a week when we get back to the asylum." Amber rolled her eyes at the threat.

"To be honest, Crane, I don't really care anymore. Tell me what the medicine is for." She said stubbornly. He looked at her for a long time before finally speaking again.

"…Okay Amber." He said finally in a deadly quiet tone. Crane was pleased to see a glimmer of fear in Amber's eyes, and it excited him a bit. "You really want to know what this medicine is for? Hmm?" Slowly, she nodded at him. "I hear voices. You know, the kind that everyone makes fun of and jokingly says that they get. Well I actually do have them. That's why I need that medicine. Otherwise, in a matter of days, you would probably be killed by this particular voice taking over. It tells me that I _should_ kill you Amber, that you could destroy my life here. Now, are you going to give me those pills?" He said, voice steadily rising from that quiet tone to a yell. He could almost feel the Scarecrow begging to come out, and he wished that Amber would hide that obvious shine of fear in her eyes.

"You're insane. Completely fucking insane!" Amber screamed at him. He looked at her with a cold smile.

"I believe you are forgetting which one of us is actually being treated at the asylum." He said.

"You're should be in one of the cells, not me! Just wait until I get out of here! I'll tell the world that Dr. Jonathan Crane is a complete _psycho_!"

"Well Amber, where do we stand on those pills?" He asked, masking his anger. She threw them at his head, and he caught them with one hand easily. She watched as he calmly unscrewed the orange cap and took two of the large pills, his icy blue eyes never leaving her own hazel ones. After he had swallowed them, he smiled at her. "I think that it would be beneficial to your treatment if you were to see another doctor at the asylum from now on, don't you agree?" He asked as he started up the Mercedes and started to drive back to the asylum. Amber stared at him in a horrified and shocked silence. Once they reached the large building, Crane called for an orderly at the front desk, and Amber walked back to her cell silently.

The next morning, Amber sat up in her bed slowly. She looked up at the bright morning sunshine groggily and rubbed her eyes. Someone, an orderly Amber assumed, had left a plate of something sitting on her table. After choking down a few bites of the stuff, she shoved it away from her and looked out the window. The sun was now fully in the sky, all traces of the sunrise colours gone from the sky. Amber sighed and turned her back on the window. She wondered when she would be let out, and that brought her to thinking about Crane. He had mentioned something about her seeing another doctor, and Amber was curious to know who it would be. She felt somewhat badly about what she said to Crane, since he had an actual mental problem, and was relieved not to have to face him for a little while at least.

As though in answer to her curiosity, there was a rough knock on the door and it swung open. Amber looked blankly at the orderly standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and smiled faintly. "Do I get to see the doctor now?" She asked. The orderly gave her a suspicious look and nodded. She got up from her chair and followed him out. Soon, they reached a large door and the orderly knocked softly on it. When there was no reply, the orderly opened the door slowly and motioned for Amber to enter.

Amber watched the doctor seated at the large desk carefully. She looked to be in her late-fifties, with her white hair and cold green eyes. Thinly rimmed glasses were perched upon a long and hooked nose. "Good morning Amber. My name is Dr. White. Did you have a good day yesterday?" She asked her in a slightly condescending tone, as though she were speaking to a young child. Amber stared at her for a moment and then looked around the office. There were almost no personal effects placed on the desk, only a large planner, and a gaudy blue flowerpot that held a wilted white flower in it. Looking at the walls, she saw the same tall bookcases that were in Crane's office, only these were made of a lesser quality wood. Next to these was a shelf that had many plates with intricate designs on them. Amber sniffed at the plates and finally turned her attention back to the woman.

"I don't think that I want to talk to you." She told her without emotion in her voice. Dr. White raised her eyebrows a bit and looked at her thoughtfully.

"Now Amber, that isn't a very nice thing to say."

"I'm well aware of that." Amber replied while smiling a little. It would amuse her to play these kinds of games with Dr. White, as she obviously wasn't as well prepared for dealing with them as Dr. Crane would be. _This will be fun_, Amber thought as she sat down in the armchair that was facing the desk. "I don't trust you at all, so I don't want to talk to you about _anything_, making this therapy and even my time spent in this asylum, useless. You should let me out of here immediately."

"I can't do that, Amber. Only Dr. Crane can handle that sort of thing, and he obviously doesn't want to talk to you anymore. Tell me, why is that Amber? Do you know?" Dr. White asked her thoughtfully. Amber tilted her head to the side.

"Don't you know?" Amber asked her. Dr. White frowned at her.

"I wouldn't be asking you if I did. So you don't know why?"

"I do know! I just wanted to see if you were asking one of those annoying psychiatrist questions that you already know the answer to." Amber said cheerfully.

"So are you going to tell me then?" Dr. White looked at her, obviously summoning up patience.

"No." Amber grinned wickedly at her.

"Ms. Larks, if you persist in this insolent behavior, I will be forced to have you disciplined and Dr. Crane will be notified. You don't want that, do you?"

"That depends on whether or not Jonathan is doing the disciplining…" Amber knew that Dr. White would think that she was romantically interested in Crane, but she really didn't care, just another thing to confuse her with later. Amber hoped that Dr. White would try and talk with Crane about the matter, and she thought that this would only serve to irritate him. _What an interesting game_, Amber thought with delight. "I think that this session is over for today, don't you?" Amber asked Dr. White, mimicking her condescending voice. Amber was pleased to see that the disrespectfulness hadn't been lost on her as Dr. White gave her a poisonous look, but the glare was nothing compared to those that Crane had given her occasionally.

"That is for me to decide, Amber." The superiority was now gone from her voice, replaced by irritation. Amber smiled faintly at her and looked out the window. For some time, Dr. White tried asking questions about various things, mostly Amber's past, but she gave no reply as she looked out into the distance. After Dr. White gave up on asking questions, she sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at Amber with unmasked annoyance and then called for an orderly to come get her. Once the orderly had arrived, Amber looked back at Dr. White.

"Bye-bye, Dr. White! I can't wait to see you again tomorrow!" She said with false cheeriness as she walked out orderly following her. Once they reached the door to her cell, the orderly stopped and looked at Amber reproachfully.

"It's not a good idea to bait Dr. White." He warned her seriously. Amber looked up at him and frowned.

"Why? She can't do anything to me without Crane's permission, right?" She asked.

"No, she can't," He finally admitted. "But what makes you so sure that Dr. Crane won't give her okay to do something?" The orderly opened the door for her and Amber walked inside silently. _He wouldn't do anything to me_, _right?_ Amber asked herself as she paced her cell. _He respects me as Roxi says; but I did say some rather nasty things to him yesterday…_ Her thoughts trailed off and left her with a slight feeling of dread. This game that she was playing with Dr. White could go one of two ways; the first would be that Dr. White complains so much about her that Crane lets her do something nasty to her. The second would be that Amber would be sent back to Crane, regardless of his opinion on the matter. She thought about the matter for sometime. Finally, she decided that she would have to talk to Crane, to apologize for her comments, and to earn back whatever kind of approval it was that could keep her safe while she was trapped in here.


	10. The Scarecrow and The Truthseeker

Jonathan sat in his office that afternoon doing paperwork. There wasn't much to be done, just some release forms for some of the less dangerous patients to other asylums. He finished them quickly and put them in the outgoing stack to be sent down to the secretary. He wondered how Amber was doing in Dr. White's care. Dr. White was a respectable doctor at the asylum, who usually dealt with the patients in minimum security. He knew that she would treat Amber like a child and disrespect her, which was exactly why he had sent Amber to be placed under her care.

Dr. White had joined the asylum when it had opened; leaving her own private practice that was quickly going bankrupt. Crane had given her a job due to the lack of other more qualified candidates for the position, and now regretted doing so. Dr. White made it painfully clear that she thought that she would be a much better Administrator of the asylum than himself. But so far, she had not given him ample reason to fire her yet, and he hoped that Amber would finally cause her to resign.

He sighed as he thought of what she had said to him in the car yesterday. They angered him of course, but they also saddened him. Something would need to be done about her, and soon. As much as it killed him to admit it, Scarecrow did make a valid point when he mentioned that she could destroy his delicately fabricated life here in New York. _And there is a definite shortage of dirty cops here that could be bought off in the event of another emergency_, Crane thought. He opened his desk drawer and removed the ball that he had taken from Amber. He rolled it along the length of his desk while thinking on these things. His thoughts were interrupted though by a gentle yet brisk knocking on his door.

"Come in." He said tiredly, knowing who would open the door. Dr. White stepped in the room and looked disdainfully at the small colourful ball before turning her attentions back to him. "Is there a problem, doctor?" He asked her shortly as he put the ball back in the drawer.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Dr. Crane, but we really must talk about this new patient that you've assigned me." She looked at him with slight nervousness. "I'm not really sure how I can tastefully ask you this…" He looked at her with a touch of annoyance and she hurried on. "Well, Ms. Larks made a rather, how shall I say, _interesting_ comment today in therapy." Jonathan felt his stomach plummet as he masked his nervousness perfectly. _She said something about the medication_, _oh god._ He smiled at Dr. White warmly, praying that he was wrong.

"Amber says _many_ very interesting things, Dr. White. What has she said this time?" _I'll have to kill her for this; it's the only way I could possibly start to cover this thing up. Dr. White will connect the dots between Gotham City and myself too easily…_ He thought with growing despair. Dr. White looked at him oddly.

"I suppose that I'll have to be blunt here, Dr. Crane, have you encouraged any particular, umm, _unreasonable fantasies_ with Ms. Larks?" Dr. White said quickly. Jonathan blinked in astonishment and then relief flooded him.

"Of course not, Dr. White! Amber is simply playing with your head; some of mind games can be quite entertaining _if_ you know how to handle them. I would advise you disregard anything that she says about me of that nature immediately from now on." He told her in a calm tone. Jonathan was pleased to see that his backhanded comment of knowing how to handle Amber's games did not escape her. Dr. White smiled with false cheerfulness.

"Well, thank you Dr. Crane! You've certainly put my mind to rest." She said quickly as she walked out of his office. After the door swung shut, Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. So Amber hadn't said anything about the medicine to her after all. But he would need to have a talk with her soon nevertheless about the matter, and soon. He couldn't risk her saying something; as ridiculous as Dr. White could be sometimes, there would be no telling where her ambition and cleverness could lead her. He would love to just fire her, but he knew that she would take legal action against him, and that would only bring him under closer scrutiny by the general public, something that he definitely didn't want to happen. Thinking about Amber made him remember something that he had told her that she could have when they were standing outside in the rain that night; he had promised her some books. He decided that she didn't deserve the music just yet, and slowly got up from his oversized office and looked through his large bookshelf. There really wasn't much that would be considered good reading material by most people's standards, but there were a few novels that he had left at the asylum for his own personal reading. He selected a few of them and put them in a pile to give to her tomorrow.

"Amber, how are you feeling today?" Dr. White asked Amber in a falsely warm tone as she stalked into the office and flopped down on the couch. It was the next morning and even though she had clung to the bed, the table, and anything else that she could get a proper grip on, she was still sitting in the office with Dr. White for the second time. Despite having to be here at all, Amber felt quite proud of her efforts to try and stay. _No doubt Dr. Crane was informed_, she thought with an odd pleasure. For some reason, she had been having deeper and deeper feelings of guilt about what she said to him and was now slightly desperate to apologize for them, of course, there was also the small part about having to do this to try and ensure her safety at the asylum.

Looking up at Dr. White in response to her question, Amber treated her to the same emotionless blank stare that she had on occasion given Crane. _It seemed to mildly irritate him, so it should really get under this new doctor's skin_, she thought. As she glanced down at the white shirt and dark blue skirt that Dr. White was wearing she said "Your outfit doesn't match."

"I disagree Amber. But that is not what we are here to talk about." _Doesn't that last bit sound familiar…_ Amber thought with amusement. Her comment had obviously annoyed Dr. White though, as she was tapping her fingernail lightly on the desktop.

"You know, Jonathan used to tell me that too when I was talking to him…" She said in an airy tone. Inwardly, she grinned at the look of disgust and annoyance that Dr. White gave her.

"I think that you should be referring to him as Dr. Crane, Amber." Dr. White told her in a stern voice. Amber sighed.

"But that sounds so, _distant_… Could I see him again?" Amber asked, smiling lazily at her. The look of annoyance deepened and Dr. White narrowed her eyes.

"Not at the moment. Instead, why don't you fill this out for me?" Dr. White asked her in a slightly hopeful tone. Amber got a sinking feeling when she saw the thick white sheaf of papers. It seemed as though this woman wanted to give her some kind of test. Amber gave Dr. White her best reproachful look as she took the papers from her carefully, and then took a pencil out of the holder on her desk.

Examining the questions, she nearly rolled her eyes when she read them. Pointless questions such as 'What is your favourite colour?' were placed slyly among other obviously relevant ones such as 'Do you have frequent suicidal urges?' in the test. Looking through the first page, she saw that the empty questions greatly outnumbered the significant ones. This was obviously something that Dr. White had invented so that she could simply administer this long test and use up her hour with Amber quietly and without having to do any work. It would have been quite a clever strategy with someone much dumber than Amber. Instead, as she eyed the test, she saw yet another opportunity to drive Dr. White closer to dumping her back on Crane.

"I broke the pencil." Amber said, looking up at Dr. White with wide innocent eyes. She had just snapped the pencil's graphite on the underside of the tray that she was given to write on. Dr. White held out her hand and Amber handed her the pencil. Impatiently, Dr. White sharpened it in the automatic sharpener on her desk and handed it back. After writing a few sentences on the test, Amber broke the pencil again.

"It broke again." Dr. White gave her a suspicious look this time, but still sharpened it for her and handed it back. After this process had repeated itself for around four times, Dr. White hesitated before giving the pencil back.

"Let's see what you've written so far." She said. _Shit! She wasn't supposed to see this until it was finished! Oh well…_ Amber thought grimly as she handed the papers over.

"This is quite interesting, Amber. 'I think that you're plates on the wall look silly, your outfit doesn't match, I'm not crazy so I should be let out of this insane asylum, I want to talk to Jonathan again, this is so pointless.'" Dr. White said in a bored tone as she read off a little of what Amber had written on the papers. Amber grinned and nodded.

"That's what I wrote Dr. White! You should get to the part about how I complain about the food here. Have you tried it? It's awful!" She told her cheerfully.

"Amber. How am I supposed to help you if you aren't going to cooperate with me?"

"Did you miss the part about how I'm _not_ insane?" Amber asked her in a dry tone.

"Then why are you here Amber? Why did Dr. Crane bring you?"

"Because I'm writing an article about him. He didn't really like that idea, so he pushed me in front of a taxi. I didn't die though, so he locked me up here!" Amber said to her.

"Don't you think that sounds a little strange to you? A bit, I don't know, _paranoid_?" Dr. White asked her slowly.

"Of course it sounds strange! You forget who we're talking about here." She replied coolly. _Maybe_, Amber thought with sudden hope, _just maybe this stupid woman will take me half-seriously_, _seriously enough to look into the possibility…_ She knew that she couldn't say anything else on the topic though, otherwise it would just be too obvious that she wanted Dr. White to investigate. "But I do grow weary of this discussion. It's so negative, and I need to dwell on positive things!" Amber said cheerfully. She could tell that Dr. White was considering what she had said previously. She didn't want Dr. White to move too quickly though, otherwise Crane would catch on to her plot for sure. Instead, Amber knew that she would have to get the good doctor's mind off the subject for now. Looking around the room, she finally spotted the perfect tool for this.

Amber got up suddenly from the couch, setting the tray on Dr. White's desk. She hoped that the graphite would leave marks on the desk as she stalked over to the large shelf with the antique plates.

"What are you doing Amber? Come sit back down and talk to me." Dr. White said from her desk. "I'll show you the plates at the end of the session if you're good today." _Crash!_ The first plate came down, shattering on the hardwood floor with a pleasant noise. Dr. White gasped and leapt up from her office chair. "What are you doing? Those are antique! They're worth a fortune!"

_Why on earth keep them here then?_ Amber wondered as she knocked another plate off the shelf. She wasn't going to break all of them, just the particularly tacky ones; Amber thought that she was doing Dr. White a favor by cleaning out her collection for her. Dr. White was half screaming into a phone, probably for an orderly to come down and restrain her from breaking anything more. After two more plates broke, an orderly rushed through the door and pulled her roughly away from the shelf.

"Thank you for coming so quickly! I don't know what came over her! But I didn't want to injury _myself_ by trying to stop her of course…" Dr. White said quickly. The orderly didn't answer as he held Amber's squirming hands behind her back easily. "I do believe that we need to have a talk with Dr. Crane, now." She said while leading the orderly down the hall to the office. Dr. White didn't bother to knock as she unlocked Crane's office with her own master key and looked at him expectantly.

"Yes?" Crane asked her with an annoyed air. He looked at Amber and narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. "Is there a problem?"

"There is a large problem, Dr. Crane. Your patient here has decided to break four very valuable dishes from my collection. I simply cannot treat her any longer!" The orderly released my hands with a nod from Crane and walked out silently. "She is constantly talking about how much better of a job that you do and wanting to talk to you again. I think that you should be her doctor again, as you are the only one in this asylum that could possibly handle her."

"Really? She says that I do a better job?" Dr. Crane asked with slight amazement.

"Of course you do a better job, Jonathan! You're the _best_ doctor I've ever had!" Amber gushed while trying not to laugh. He glared at her and sighed.

"Has she really been that problematic, Dr. White?"

"Yes."

"I suppose that I have no choice than to continue her treatment then. You may leave now." He said, dismissing Dr. White. She smiled, grateful to be rid of Amber so easily and walked out.

"I think that we need to have a talk though, Dr. Crane." She said sincerely. He looked at her expectantly and with slight interest. _Perfect_, she thought as she continued quickly. "I just have to confess!" He leaned in slightly, watching her intently as she batted her eyelashes at him and widened her large hazel eyes. "I believe that I have fallen completely and totally in love with you! I mean it's _such_ a turn on when a guy goes to all this trouble just to shut me up! I know that it probably isn't normal, but somewhere between the attempted murder, kidnapping, and threats on my life, not to mention those gorgeously cold blue eyes of yours, I just can't seem to get over you! I think that this warrants a serious discussion, don't you?"

He leaned back in his chair and looked at her, obviously extremely annoyed. "Amber. You are going to get us _both_ in all kinds of trouble if you keep that up."

"That's why you need to help me get over you! I just can't get enough of those icy sapphire eyes! And especially when you're glaring like that! _So _creepy, and yet so sexy!"

"Stop it. We do need to have a serious talk, but that _definitely_ is not what we need to discuss." He said, sighing.

"Killjoy. What is it then?" Amber asked. Crane looked down at his desk and sighed again while taking off his glasses. "You do look a little upset, did I do something wrong?" She frowned at him.

"No, not yet that I know of at least. It's about the medication that you picked up for me…"

"Oh. You want to know if I told anyone, especially Dr. White, right?" He looked up at her with apprehension, as though he was preparing himself for the worst. "I didn't." Amber told him.

"You're sure? You didn't make any obscure hints at all?"

"I'm very sure. The only thing that Dr. White found out is that I have a supposed fixation with you. As a reward, how about letting me out?"

"You are so amusing sometimes Amber."

"I'm serious!" Amber said in a dignified tone. "I've been a good girl so far! Why can't I leave?"

"'A good girl'? Honestly, you call painting the walls in your room, an escape attempt, fighting the orderlies, yes I heard about your little scuffle," Amber smiled, pleased that Crane was informed of her desperate attempts to stay out of Dr. White's office. "And driving another doctor to the point of refusing to treat you being _good_? There are more examples of misbehavior; would you like me to state them for you?"

"No. Alright, so maybe I _haven't _been an _angel_…" Crane raised his eyebrows at her and she scowled. "I want out. I'm sick of being in here. I already told you I wouldn't write my article if you were to let me go."

"I am not going to let you out right now Amber. I can't trust you not to publish yet." He said.

"About that, since I'm _not_ going to publish anything, what exactly was your role in the whole Gotham City deal? I'm curious." She asked him. He looked at her warily.

"_Very_ rarely are reporters 'curious' without a very good reason. And this is another one of those things that you don't want to find out." Crane said quietly. Amber frowned and met his eyes.

"I am sorry about what happened with the medicine. You didn't deserve to be called those names…" _Listen to yourself! You have pity and feel guilty for calling the man who tried to kill you names? You do belong in here. _ The sarcastic voice in her head said.

Crane looked at her with a strange expression. "Why not?" He asked, echoing the voice inside of her head.

"I…I think that underneath it all, you're a good person." She finally replied. He smiled bitterly and shook his head.

"And that is where you are so very wrong, Amber. I am far from a good person." He said, meeting her eyes.

"I don't believe you." Amber said, not flinching away from the intense blue gaze that was currently fixed on her.

"You don't _want _to believe me. There is quite a difference. But I think it's time for you to return to your room now." He looked down beside his desk and saw the large pile of books. He wasn't in the mood to give them to her today, but he decided that she could have one. "Take this." He said, taking one off the top of the pile. She accepted it from him and followed him out of the office.

"Dr. White always had an orderly walk me back to my cell. Why do you go to the trouble of taking me back yourself?"

"Honestly Amber? I have nothing better to do." He replied. To her confused expression, he explained. "The secretaries take care of most of the paperwork, and I don't see any other patients than you."

"So what do you do all day then?" She asked. Amber was finding it rather hard to believe that the Administrator of an asylum in New York had nothing to do all day. But then again, she supposed that he was right, if the secretaries did take care of the paperwork and there weren't any patients, what was there left to do?

"I sign off on orders and prescriptions for patients, answer my phone, and listen to complaints from the other doctors."

"And you're my new therapist." Amber added.

"And I'm your new therapist."

"That sounds really boring, except for having to deal with me of course."

"That might be because it is really, _really_ boring." He said. Their conversation was interrupted though by a screaming. A patient in an orange jumpsuit was looking at them with wide eyes, fighting an orderly.

"It's you! Scarecrow! Scarecrow! And the Truthseeker is with him! Be warned Truthseeker, you take your life into your hands by consorting with the Scarecrow!" The patient screamed at them. Amber froze and stared at the man with wide eyes. She was horrified to see the orderly shove the man forcefully into his cell and look at Crane, obviously embarrassed by the show put on by the patient. Amber could hear the man's screams faintly even through the walls. Crane smiled warmly at the orderly.

"Has Josh been going on about that again? We need to screen his medication to see if it working properly." Crane said in an amused voice. Amber could see him tense. The orderly nodded and walked away. "Well, come on Amber." Crane said in a light voice that didn't hide his nervousness. Amber didn't move and stared at him in horror. Suddenly, a lot of things that she discovered in her research made sense. Crane had done an excellent job of hiding his tracks, large amounts of money had to be put into the right hands to purchase the alibi he created, but it had all become undone to Amber with one insane patient's screams.


	11. I Personally Prefer to Strangle

"Scarecrow?" Amber said in a high-pitched tone. Crane smiled coldly at her.

"No. Far from it. Come on." When she still didn't move, Crane glared at her. "Amber, this is your last warning."

"Th-that was the voice that wanted me dead, wasn't it? The Scarecrow." Her voice shook with fear.

"Yes Amber. That was it." He replied coolly.

Amber's mind was screaming at her to move, to run, to do something, but her body remained frozen in place with shock and horror. So this is really why she was locked up here, the Scarecrow didn't want someone breaking his story. How stupid she had been all this time, acting up and being obstinate when at any moment, Crane could have used the toxin that he doused the Narrows with. Her thoughts of all the things that could have happened to her were stopped by Crane's grabbing her wrist roughly and dragging her along to her cell.

"Ouch! Let go!" She said loudly to him. His hand was unnaturally cold and Amber tried to pull her wrist from his grasp. She had little success as he tightened his grip. _All this time_ _and I couldn't see it…_ Amber thought as Crane unlocked the door to her room and pushed her in.

_I'm stuck in an asylum run by a psychopath._ Amber thought grimly as she watched Crane stalk back to his office from her small window.

Dr. White thought back to her session with Amber while she was sweeping up the shards of the plates. She had mentioned something that was definitely worth looking into. Amber, despite being persistent and at times, extremely immature, seemed to be perfectly sane. Her story could quite possibly be true, and if that was the case, Dr. White knew that she could use it finally blackmail Crane into leaving Riverside Asylum and even New York City. Of course, she would also free Amber, after all, she was bound to get out one way or another, and Dr. White definitely didn't want any parts of this involving her in the _New York Observer_.

After she finished cleaning her office, Dr. White made a few calls to the hospital that Amber had been admitted to after her supposed suicide attempt, and the story checked out. Crane had insisted upon bringing her to this asylum. Amber never had any history of suicidal tendencies, and didn't show many of the symptoms either. She had a job at the _New York Observer_ which meant that she obviously graduated some kind of college, and although Dr. White didn't know anything about Amber's family, she assumed that Amber couldn't have had a terribly awful life. Tomorrow, Dr. White decided, she would bring the story to Crane, and finally take control of Riverside Asylum.

The next afternoon, Dr. White was waiting for Jonathan outside his office. Trying to hold her joy inside her, she knocked briskly on the door. "Come in." Jonathan said in a bored tone.

"Is there some other problem with Amber you wanted to discuss?" He asked her when she stepped in.

"Yes actually." She smiled triumphantly at him and he felt the beginnings of apprehension. "She has this story she told me. Something about you pushing her in front of a taxi, then locking her up here. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you Dr. Crane?"

"…What do you want?" He asked after a long silence. There was no point in trying to fool her now, Jonathan was sure that she had researched this before blackmailing him with it. How stupid could he have been? Of course Amber would tell Dr. White this, now he would have to leave the asylum, and with Dr. White as the new Administrator, she could get out. It would be exactly what he would have done. He sighed as she sneered at him.

"I want you gone, Crane. Out of the asylum and out of New York. There's something in your past that I haven't found yet, but Amber Larks obviously has. And I get the feeling that she would tell me _everything_ if promised her freedom." Dr. White told him in a cold tone. He looked down, knowing that there was nothing that he could do aside from killing both Dr. White and Amber that could cover this up. He knew that he could kill Dr. White easily, but there was the small problem of her family noticing her absence. And then, there was Amber's murder that he would have to deal with as well.

"Okay then. I'll need an hour to get my things out of the office." He said quietly. This life that he had worked so hard to build here was now ruined; and the amazing thing about it was, the only thing it took was Amber's mentioning something to this horrible woman. Dr. White walked out of his office humming to herself with pleasure. He felt like breaking something, perhaps throwing his chair out the window, but he didn't want Dr. White to do something in revenge for anything stupid he might do. He walked out of his office and down the hall to fetch a large cardboard box to put his belongings in from the office.

Amber looked up from the novel that Crane had given her to read when her door swung open without so much as a knock. Dr. White was standing in the doorway, looking quite happy.

"Do you want something?" Amber asked her.

"Don't speak to me in that tone; you sound just like Crane when you do that!" Dr. White said in an annoyed tone. "Do you have any personal items here? If so I'd advise packing them up, you're leaving."

"What?" Amber said in disbelief.

"Do you have anything here that's yours? I tend to doubt it, but bring it with you when you leave." Amber was shocked. Finally, after being trapped by the walls of this wretched asylum, she was going home.

"What about Dr. Crane? Doesn't he have to say this is okay?" Amber could help but be slightly mistrustful of this new, although wonderful turn of events.

"Dr. Crane is not Administrator of this hospital any more. He is resigning and left the post for me to fill." Dr. White said glowingly. It made Amber slightly nauseous to see her happy, but she couldn't help but be ecstatic herself at the prospect of finally leaving Riverside Asylum. Amber followed Dr. White out of the room, taking the novel with her. As she was walking towards the exit though, a thought struck her, and her excitement faded. Dr. Crane had to know that she told Dr. White something. It would certainly make her mad, to have this wonderful life that she had put together destroyed, and she wondered with dread what was going to happen to her in return.

As she walked out the doors of Riverside Asylum, she saw a big yellow taxi waiting for her in the parking lot. Dr. White waved to her from the entrance, but Amber didn't wave back as she looked around the lot. There wasn't a Mercedes, or any other expensive car sitting in the parking lot she could see as the taxi pulled out; that meant that Crane had already left the asylum. She started to tell the driver her address, but instead gave him the address of a popular restaurant near her apartment complex. She was finally going to have something decent to eat.

Luckily, Amber found that her credit card was still in her pocket, and after she was finished eating the overly-expensive meal, charged it to the card. She walked out, feeling very full and happy. She decided that she would worry about Crane tomorrow, because he couldn't possibly have had enough time to plan anything against her just yet. She walked into the apartment building, and took the elevator up to her apartment. She hopped to get the spare key that she left above the door frame, and unlocked the door.

Sighing with happiness at finally being home, she flicked on the light in her living room.

"Hello Amber." A voice said behind her. She felt pure dread as she turned around and saw Jonathan Crane sitting at her small table. She had walked right past him without knowing he was there.

"H-hi Crane…" She stammered. He smiled coldly at her and lifted up one of her martini glasses in a toast to her.

"An excellent brand. I'm surprised that you have Grey Goose in the house." He said, taking a sip of the vodka.

"How did you get in here?" She asked him cautiously.

"The same way you did. Honestly, key on top of the door frame; so predictable."

"How long have you been in my apartment?" She ignored the predictable comment. Slowly she backed up to her silverware drawer.

"I've been here for about…" He looked at his Fossil watch "Two and a half hours now. Went out to dinner I suppose." Crane said in an offhand manner. Quickly Amber spun around and whipped open the drawer. She felt her fear triple when she saw the item that she was looking for gone.

"Missing something?" A cold voice asked her. She turned around slowly and looked up at him. He held the long knife up, the lamplight glinted off the polished steel edge. "It's a nice knife. Amber, you look rather afraid. You shouldn't be. I'm not going to kill you with this. Whenever you stab someone, it always turns out to be messy; you know, blood everywhere…" He set the knife down and looked at her with those vindictive blue eyes. "I personally prefer to strangle."


	12. Stockholm Syndrome

"Why are you here?"

"That's a very clever tactic; keep me talking so that I might change my mind about killing you. I'm not going to kill you though Amber. There are things far worse than death that someone can endure." Amber turned and tried to run into her small bedroom, but she couldn't shut the door and lock it before Crane came after her.

He slammed his weight against the nearly shut door, knocking it and Amber back. With a cold smile, he watched with happiness as she flung herself against the wall farthest from him. Taking his time, he stalked towards her. Usually it was the Scarecrow who handled this sort of behavior, but Crane could almost see why he loved it so much. The power that becoming someone's worst fear and standing before them was magnificent. Amber's fears were about to get much worse, as he took as small plastic bag filled with white powder out of his pocket.

Crane was disappointed to see a change in Amber's character then. Instead of being terrified, she became emotionless. There was still a flicker of fear in her eyes, but it wasn't the burning horror that was there before. _That will change quickly_, he thought with pleasure as he knelt before her and put a small amount of the substance in his hands. He had bribed a police officer in Gotham for a small part of the antidote for the toxin, so he was immune now. It was nice not having to wear a gas mask and gloves all the time when he handled the powder.

"This will be fun." He said darkly as he blew the powder from his palm and into her face. For a few seconds, there was no change in her expression, and then the look of terror in her eyes was back. She screamed a few times, pointing to one of her hallucinations on the wall. "What's wrong Amber? Something there?" He asked her in a taunting tone. She just pointed and screamed.

Amber watched in horror as the mutant thing came towards her. It looked to be some kind of arachnid, and its eight legs were made from roughly sewn together human arms. Crane apparently didn't see it, but he tried to say something to her and she screamed again.

"Don't let it get me. Please…" She begged him in a hysterical tone. Tears were streaming down her face, but Crane just looked at her with a blank expression.

"Something wrong?" He asked her. She looked at him and cried harder.

Crane was shocked by what Amber did then. She was now clinging to him, pleading and begging him to protect her from whatever it was she was seeing. She had her head buried in his chest and was sobbing into his blazer. He wondered why he didn't look like some kind of demon to her, but there was a certain defect in some of the powder. Sometimes, people didn't see other people as the horrific monsters they were supposed to. Usually this only included the people that the victim knew well or the ones they were particularly attached to.

He felt guilty for what he did then, with Amber crying and wailing. He sat down beside her silently as she cried. Weren't they equal then? Amber probably wasn't going to publish her article anyway, and he had tried to kill her and imprisoned her. She had eventually ruined his life in New York anyway, but still, weren't they even now? _After this is finished we will be._ He thought grimly. _Then it's over._

Amber clung to Crane as though he could actually protect her from the awful thing that walked around her room. She could see other things too, waiting in the darkest corners with their glowing red eyes staring at her. Slowly, some of the red eyed things left, but the spider thing was still stalking around. "Please don't let it get me…" She begged. Her voice sounded muffled to Crane. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, guilt overcoming him completely.

He sighed and looked down at her head. She was still crying, but she had quieted down slightly when he hugged her. Crane hadn't felt this badly about something that he did in a very long time. "Don't worry, they can't get you now." He said in a calming tone of voice. "Shh…" He rubbed her back until finally she was only crying slightly.

"W-what was i-it?" She asked him hesitantly after she had calmed down enough to speak.

"I don't know what it was. It must have been terrible though." Crane said honestly. She buried her head in his blazer again.

"It was." She said quietly. He bit his bottom lip. She didn't deserve this. Yesterday, she had honestly told him that she believed that he was a good person. How could she possibly think that again after this? He sighed and stroked her back again. Just the thought of her hallucinations brought her back to crying again though, and she started to sob. _I did this to the whole Narrows…_ He thought suddenly. He swallowed his guilt though and held Amber closer, for her comfort as much as his.

After Amber stopped crying again, he pulled both of them to their feet. Their hands dropped to their sides and she looked at him without expression. "You need to get some sleep." He said quietly, breaking eye contact with her.

He walked out of the room quickly, letting her get changed into her pajamas. Crane knew that Amber would probably be having smaller hallucinations all night, but hopefully sleep would provide an escape from her waking nightmares. He walked over to her sink and ran his hand under cold water, so that he got all of the powder off.

"You aren't going to let them get me, right?" Amber said suddenly. He jumped a little at the sound of her voice; he didn't hear her come up behind him. He looked at her standing there before him in her baggy pajama pants and tight tank top. There was no knowing if she would every fully recover from the toxin's effects on her mind.

"No. Go to bed and get some rest." He replied. She started to walk back to her bedroom. Suddenly, a thought struck him. It would explain why she trusted him enough to seek comfort from him even after everything that happened. "Amber." He said. She turned around and looked at him with wide and questioning hazel eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course; you're Jonathan Crane. Why?" She frowned in confusion at him.

"I was just curious." He said quickly. "Go to bed." Amber nodded and walked back into her room. A few moments later, Amber came hurrying back out.

"What if it's still in there? Hiding?" She asked him nervously. He sighed and walked into the room. "Don't let it get you!" She said suddenly, looking at him with concern. _She has Stockholm syndrome_ _and I only made it worse by dosing her with that hallucinogen._ He finally concluded as she was watching him.


	13. Letters

"It can't get you." Crane told her in a soothing tone.

"Promise?" She still looked slightly nervous.

"I promise that it can't hurt you." _This should all be cleared up in the morning. I only gave her a small_, _weak dose of the toxin. I doubt that she can see the major hallucinations now._ He thought as she crawled underneath the covers. He was getting rather tired himself, and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Are you going to stay there to make sure the spider-thing doesn't come back?" Amber asked him. He nodded while the physiatrist part of his brain told him that she was probably arachnophobic if the hallucination she was so worried about appeared to look like a spider. He got up from the corner of Amber's bed and set his glasses on her bedside table and hung his blazer on the doorknob. Crane smiled at the effect that this gave the room; it almost seemed like he could have belonged here. _How far from the truth that is…_ He thought as he sat back down on the corner of the bed.

The sane part of Amber's mind was screaming at her. Not only were there demonic things that were probably hiding in her room at this very moment, but she had her kidnapper and would-be-murderer sitting on the edge of her bed, supposedly keeping the monsters away. On top of all this, she had clung to him while that spider was walking around. He had made them go away for the most part though. There was still the occasional glaring red eye would poke out from a shadow in the corner, but it wasn't that bad. Crane obviously believed her to be asleep, as he walked over and took off his glasses and jacket. She liked the effect it gave him; he seemed nicer and less formal; a lot less like the person who originally caged her in that asylum. _You're becoming way too attached to him._ She thought to herself.

Amber did feel badly about the whole incident at the asylum. After all, she had lost him his job, and if he was smart, he would leave New York completely. She shut her eyes quickly and regulated her breath so that Crane would think that she was sleeping. Opening her eye a crack, she saw him smile and then look around at her room. _It's just for one night. After this_, _the demons will be gone._ She thought. Slowly though, she could feel weariness tugging at her, and her body cried out for rest. She forced herself to stay awake, as she had to make sure that Crane fell asleep before her. She was not disappointed, as a few minutes later, Crane slowly relaxed and laid back on the bed, eyes shut and breathing deeply. _He really doesn't look that intimidating or nasty when he's asleep._ She thought, looking at his sleeping form. _What he looks like when he's sleeping doesn't mean that he isn't those things._ _I can't get fond of him._ She told herself firmly after she broke her trance. Suddenly, she had an idea. Looking beside Crane's glasses on her table, she saw the small pad of paper and pen that she always kept there. Creeping around him, she wrote him a quick note and put it beside his glasses for him to find in the morning.

_That is a bad idea._ The reasonable voice inside her head told her. Deciding she really didn't care though, she tugged the three blankets from underneath Crane without waking him up. After she tossed them over him, she looked at his sleeping form and went to sleep, confidant that the demons would finally leave.

Blinking the sleepiness out of his eyes, Crane looked down to see who he was holding so closely. It was a woman with red-brown hair; Amber. Slowly he began to recall the events of last night. He only remembered leaning back on her bed, but he must have fallen asleep finally. He definitely didn't remember covering himself with blankets though, and as Amber shifted slightly in his arms, he assumed that she had covered him last night. He played with her hair for a bit while stroking her back. Amber nestled closer to him. He had to admit, it was quite tempting to just lay here for another hour, but something just seemed wrong about this situation.

He couldn't help but ask if this could have really happened, if there could possibly be something between Amber Larks and himself. If things had happened differently, if he had just let her out that night she tried to run, maybe there was just a slight chance. _It shouldn't happen now though._ He thought firmly. He knew that a large part of why Amber was laying in his arms now was simply that when she saw her hallucinations something in her mind snapped. She thought that somehow he could provide protection from it, and so she had clung to him. There had to be _some_ actual feelings behind it though, as he didn't appear to her as the demon he would to most.

Crane knew that he wouldn't be able to leave here if he didn't do it now. Amber sighed and smiled while she slept. He turned away, slowly moving farther from her. He shrugged on his blazer and crept over to the table to pick up his glasses. There was a folded piece of paper put neatly beside them. Crane looked over at Amber's sleeping form questioningly as he unfolded it carefully.

_You are a good person. I told you. Amber_

The note said in neat and small handwriting. _Why did she have to make this even more difficult than it already is? _Crane thought as he folded the note back and slipped it in his pocket. He watched her stir in her sleep, and smiled when she finally settled on the place that he occupied a moment ago.

Crane opened the bedroom door quietly and stepped out. He opened a few drawers in Amber's kitchen until he finally found a blue pen that worked well and a large pad of paper. He sighed and wrote her a small letter. When he was finally done, he folded it in the same fashion that Amber had folded his note and set it next to the half-full martini glass of Grey Goose. He looked at the long carbon-steel knife next to the tall glass and put it away. Looking at his watch, he read the glowing face: 8:35 a.m. If he wanted to leave New York today, he would have to go now.

_This is stupid_, _Jonathan. Why are you doing this?_ He thought as he crept back into Amber's room. He smiled when he saw her, and walked over to the bed. Leaning over, he kissed her gently on the lips.

Amber's eyes flicked open and Crane cursed himself as she met his bright blue eyes. He turned around and started to leave her room. "Jonathan?" She said in a tone barely above a whisper. He hesitated when he heard her voice, but opened the door and walked out as quietly as possible.

_Was I just dreaming?_ Amber wondered groggily. Frowning, she got out of bed quickly and looked around. Nothing seemed terribly out of place. Her note paper and pen were out of their usual place, but that didn't really matter. _But that couldn't have just happened_, _right?_ She asked herself as she touched her lips. Amber looked down at her bed. It was messier than it usual was when she woke up, but she could have just been having a bad dream. _Of course I was dreaming._ Amber thought back to that hideous mutant spider and shuddered.

Amber looked down at the tangled sheets and sighed. How could it have happened? Crane would have killed her if he was here, not comforted her and chased the demons away. Just as she was convincing herself that it didn't happen though, she took another look at her bed. The mattress always retained a slight indentation wherever she slept, and now there was a much spot than there should be. Leaning down, she felt two warm places, both very close together. That would fit the dream.

Amber inhaled deeply next to the large indentation. One half of it smelled normal, but when she smelled the other half, she caught the faint aroma of spices and food, fabric softener, and there was just the barest hint of cologne. She swallowed and sat down hard on the bed. _Oh god. It all happened. It was real._ Flashes of Crane throwing a small amount of the white powder in her face, the spider thing, and finally, Crane holding her and eventually falling asleep next to her. _Dr. Jonathan Crane_, _otherwise known as the Scarecrow in Gotham City_, _slept next to me last night._ She thought.

Amber took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. Crane actually dosed her with his toxin, but ended up reversing the effects by holding her, and this morning, kissed her. She shook her head when she came to this realization. She walked out of her room and sat down at her small table. The only things on it were a glass of vodka and a note. Amber picked up the martini glass and sipped the bitter liquid while she opened the note.

_A very interesting note you left me_, _Amber. I am amazed that you believe that I am good_, _but I must still disagree with you. You certainly didn't make it any easier for me this morning by writing it. That is an issue best left for another time though. I have to leave New York soon; Dr. White has ordered me out of the city or else. I think that I'll go somewhere warm_, _I'm rather sick of winters._

_It's hard to find words to describe this_, _but I suppose that I wanted to thank you. I think that my whole experience with you has made a difference in me. I will not forget that. _

_J. Crane_

Amber stared at the messily scrawled signature for a long time. She supposed that nothing could have ever really happened between them, but she still considered the thought. She wondered if she would ever see him again, and sighed. Knowing that the chances of that happening were slim to none, she looked down into the clear liquid. Her mind was telling her that she should be happy never to see him again, that he was insane and almost killed her, but for some reason she still felt like crying.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself._ She told herself sharply after draining the last of the vodka. _Time for someone to know you're not locked up anymore._ Sighing, she put the glass in the sink and walked into her room to get dressed. After pulling her jeans on, she walked out of her apartment and shut the door. She locked it with her usual key, and then looked at the top of the door frame. She grabbed the spare key off of the ledge and walked down to the _New York Observer_ building.

3


End file.
